


The Siren's Song

by Brainboxy (Pixichan)



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Royalty, Too Many Languages, also daehyun has a lot of younger siblings so this is chockful of bap interacting with kids, rating may change later we'll see, the prologue and the description might not seem to go together but i promise they do ok, yongguk is a prince jongup is king daehyuns a peasant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 82,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixichan/pseuds/Brainboxy
Summary: A kingdom-wide search in enacted to find a Love for the Prince, who has lost all will and heart to search for himself. He claims there is no point to looking, for his heart was stolen long ago and never returned to him. Yet little does he know, his Siren still sings.Daehyun does not want to marry himself off to vipers, but if it means enough food and a better life for his siblings, he is willing to. Word of a contest to marry the country's Prince comes to town, and he sets his heart on winning it for their sake, even though he has only hatred for the Crown.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this one day without really thinking and now I'm just going for it, hope you enjoy! ^^
> 
> [Tumblr](http://foxjae.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/youngjaebunny)

The air stung at his lungs, fresh, crisp, and cold as he drove his horse farther into the forest. The sounds of those chasing after him had faded in the distance, until all the was left were his faithful horses hooves against the forest floor, the breaking of branches, and the brushing of bushes. His sword brought weight upon his side, reminding him of the blood that stained his countrymen’s hands. In those moments, Yongguk was desperate for an escape.

A soft voice called to him, a siren in the distance, so faint it was like the whispers of fairies. At once he turned his horse in the direction of the song, captured and captivated in it’s softness as if it harkened him back to the days when things were simple, comfortable, and okay. With each moment the song grew in volume, until the voice broke into two, one of a young man and the other, softer and less practiced, of a young boy. He came upon a wide lake, a small dock across the way, dismounted, and tied the reins of his horse to a tree close to the water so she could rest and drink while he hid among the bushes and watched.

He tried to ignore the odd yearning, the strange part of his mind that begged him to dive into the lake and swim out to the center, to wind himself up like a caught fish, and to let himself be found by those he was watching.

There, at the center of the lake, sat two boys in an old wooden boat. One was older, likely in or nearing early adulthood, while the other could not be older than nine, more likely between the ages of six and seven. The older sang loudly and clearly as he pulled up a net from the water, while the younger sang softer as he pulled the fish from the net before pushing it back into the water. As Yongguk watched on, he noticed with alarm that the fish seemed to jump straight from the water into the net, as if coaxed closer by the song in the way that Yongguk had been. Yongguk could not understand the language they sang in, but that was to be expected: there in the land of the Avoshi, why would he find someone singing in his native Uslili? He had no expectation to understand.

A large fish jumped from the water to land in the older boy’s lap. The song stopped as the younger boy burst into laughter, and the older boy followed.

The two spoke for a couple of moments, and in that time the fish within the boat began jumping and writhing as if they had realized their predicament. Yongguk felt the pull leave him, and wondered briefly if he should turn back toward camp. The younger boy seemed to be cajoling the older into doing something, and after several moments there was a cheer from him, and the older began another song.

Something settled in Yongguk’s heart, the anxiety once choking him had come to ease and he no longer felt pulled to run into the lake, but rather to close his eyes and listen.

The tune snaked through his ears and down his spine. It coiled around his mind, slithered down his back, and strangled his heart. The young man sang on, calling him, begging him to swim out but his rationality prevailed, and all at once the tune came to its end and Yongguk felt his heart leave with it, bound up in its tail, slithering back up his mind, following as it unwound from his mind, and leaving him through his ears. He pressed a hand to his chest to feel its pounding and ascertain it truly hadn’t been stolen from him, then his fingers to his neck to feel his living pulse. There was no draw to the water left, no desire to capture the siren-like man at the center of the lake but rather a calm and comfortable feeling, as if he was well again — as if all were well again.

Hooves prevailed in the distance, and Yongguk got a good view of the young man’s lovely face before he and the young boy went silently back to their work. They did not see him, but rather his brother and their aide who approached his hiding spot. His brother paid no mind to them, neither did the others, but their captive Yoo seemed quite fixated on the fishermen.

“Yongguk, you mustn’t run off like this,” called his brother, Jongup, in Usli, and it seemed as though the two fisherman relaxed at their foreign tongue. “The past has passed, and we must bear it for what it is.” He dismounted as well, as did their aide and advisor, Himchan. Their horses were bound to the same tree as Yongguk’s and only the two bound to their horse remained mounted, silent, in a forced embrace due to their bindings.

“I needed to breathe again, without the foul stench of father’s greediness,” replied Yongguk, standing from his hiding place and turning his back to the lake.

“You will have to bathe in that stench soon, Yongguk. This is the reality of our world even if it is unfair and unjust. Your father will not live much longer and you as the older son have a duty, even if you do not enjoy it,” chastised Himchan. “You must be prepared for such things, for this is your land to be even if it was stolen and won. You must be prepared to rule here as you shall in Usli, for this is now Usli as well.”

Yongguk stood silent for a moment, unsure before his hand came upon the broach on his breast and undid its clasp. “I shall not rule in Usli. I have no will for it.” The broach, unclasped and pulled from the breast of his coat, was passed on to Jongup.

“Yongguk,” his brother begged softly, looking at the broach thrust into his hands.

Yongguk would not allow for his objections. “Will you not, Jongup? All those years of talk — your plots to marry a fine princess with no male siblings and take her country in your care, and yet you have no will to care for your own? I am giving it to you; we are both aware of how little I wish for it. Will you not?” 

“I shall if you will it,” agreed Jongup, “but I never wished to rob you of your place in our home.”

“You are not robbing me if I am giving it away,” replied Yongguk firmly. “It is yours now, I have no wish for it. Allow me to stand by Himchan’s side, Your Highness. Allow me to serve you as a second loyal advisor, that’s all I can handle.”

“As you wish,” Jongup agreed. He came to rest a hand on his brother’s shoulder, to pull him into a rare hug. “All as you wish, but as the first advisor. When father passes we will pretend he willed it in his last moments. None shall know. Let’s go quickly, to hold his bedside vigil and banish the others from the room, such that they don’t contradict our plot. Once he passes we will be able to leave this cursed, bloodstained land for as long as we live.”

The fishermen began to sing again, softer as if they hoped those gathered on the river banks would be unable to hear it. “It seems like a lovely day for a swim,” remarked Himchan. 

Jongup agreed, “it’s a shame we must go.”

“Merchants— what do they sing of?” Yongguk requested of the two bound men. “Choi, translate the song for me.”

The Choi boy listened, the more compliant of their captives, but his face soon twisted into confusion. “They do not sing in Avoshi, I do not know their tongue.” He said softly. The way he flinched into the man bound in front of him was enough to ascertain it was the truth. He asked the other in a language they did not understand.

The man in front of him, the noncompliant Yoo boy, began to mumble something in Aiyuni, the language of the merchants.

“What does he say?” Himchan pressed.

“The older is imploring the fish to swim into the net, the younger is asking them to lay still and taste the sweet air,” the Choi boy translated. “He says it is an old fishermen's song from before the Avoshi came, known by very few in this province and certainly none outside of it. He says those that understand the lyrics are even fewer, and that he only knows the meaning from the tune, with no knowledge of the actual words being sung nor the language they are sung in. It’s likely the fishermen are the same, simply singing nonsense that they have been taught from their ancestors.”

“Well, they are certainly lovely in singing it,” remarked Himchan, “but we must go.” Despite their yearnings, he and Jongup mounted their horses again.

“Go without me,” Yongguk requested in an instant. “I have yet to breathe, yet to think clearly, yet to hear the boy sing his entire song. I have peasant’s clothes with me, I will change and paint myself a lost wanderer until my head is cleared.”

Again the Choi and the Yoo boy began mumbling, and eventually the Choi boy translated their words. “He worries his Highness will be lost out here. The fishermen are likely the only two near  to this lake, the nearest village is not for miles. We beg his Highness to follow the fishermen home such that he is not lost in the woods of this foreign land. Speak Uslili to them and they will be kind, but speak it to no others. If they bring you to town you must be silent, pretend you are not Usli.” The Yoo boy began mumbling again, and the translation came, “he worries of whether his Highness will be back before dark. There are few inns around this province.”

“And what of Father? It could damage out plot if you are not there,” Jongup asked.

“I will spend the night away and as I do, convince Father to give my place to you. If he survives ‘til the morrow I return, we will continue as you planned. If he embraces Mother on the other side before then, I shall return to news you have usurped me, and accept it with the appropriate remorse.”

“You will make him out to be a villain,” replied Himchan crossly. He turned to Jongup but found the young prince did not share his outrage.

“All the better. I am but 17 years in age, Himchan, to rule without Yongguk as my retainer I must show an ambition that drives fear through the public. He in the courts retains the image of a strong, moral do-gooder, but I have kept myself from the public ‘til now. Let us paint my image as that of someone to be feared and obeyed, to retain my rule without bloodshed. Let them fear and hate me, paint me as the villain. In that fear lies peace, which is all I may hope for,” replied Jongup. “I shall be a snake. Yongguk shall be the North Star.”

“Then let them kneel to you and pray to me,” Yongguk mumbled. “You have more cunning than I, so you should bear the crown, but let us lead together for a peaceful realm.”

“Yes, let’s. And, if perchance the time comes in which you wish for me to kneel before you once again, I swear on Mother’s grave I will give you back your rightful place,” Jongup swore. Yongguk had never known his brother to be anything but honest, so he bid them adieu and turned back to his hiding place.

It was many hours that he listened to the two fishermen sing, their soft voices coming less steady over the smooth waters until they withdrew their rods and rowed back to shore, their boat causing wrinkles in the fabric of the lake. Yongguk led his horse quietly round the lake to their dock, watched as the two hoisted their boat into the back of an old wagon using a slide and rusty pulley, and then the two stepped in where a horse would normally be hitched and pulled began to pull the cart.

He followed them at a distance, careful to remain hidden and far to the side of them. As they went on he felt the forest grow thicker, until there were long stretches where he had no sight of them, but rather followed the guide of their chattering voices, which had switched into a more familiar Avoshi. He still did not understand them, but there was an occasional word he knew and even rarer, one he understood.

In that time he lost himself to the peace of the forest, the singing birds and rustling leaves. The air was clearer away from his father, the Capital, and the Court, and Yongguk was quite hurt to think he would have to return to it soon. If his Father had not fallen ill a fortnight before, they would have already sorted their business with the Avoshi, settled their treaties, ended the war, and returned to their home where Yongguk would be maddened by all but his brother and their advisor. He knew Jongup would try to convince him in a month or so, before the crowning could be made official, to regain his spot as the Crown Prince, but he had never wish for it, and saw Jongup as much more capable a King.

As the coils of his thoughts unwound with the breeze, he found he could no longer hear the fisherman's’ banter with the boy. He heart sank with fear for he was in an unfamiliar forest in a still-hostile land, and though he had changed into peasant’s clothes, he was still very much Usli and there still very much had been a bloody war.

The wind carried a forest nymph’s voice, her song sweet and strengthening, but her voice young and unpracticed. In fear of losing her before she could show him the way, he surged ahead toward her, and all at once found himself in a clearing with a small cultivated field. There a young girl of twelve or so was tending to a small flock of chickens as she sang to them. Not far off in the distance two younger girls were tending to a small plot of vegetables, though all three stopped their business and looked up at him as he entered.

The oldest one, she who had been tending the chickens, called behind her without looking away from him, and the smallest girl of the lot went running through the field. In the direction she was running, he saw a small plume of smoke.

Yongguk dismounted from his horse, and was certain to leave his sword tied to the saddle rather than by his side as he approached the oldest girl. She backed up as he came forward, and so he stopped and waited at a distance.

The youngest girl returned, a fourth, oldest girl in tow. She looked to be about fifteen, and with fear in her eyes she came to him and asked him something in Avoshi. He tilted his head to the side. After several tries at communication, she pointed to him firmly and asked, “Avoshi?” 

Yongguk shook his head to say he was not. “Usli,” he pointed to himself. He knew she would not understand him, but still tried to explain in his native tongue, “I am lost. I meant to follow a fishermen to the village nearby, but lost him within the forest. I don’t mean harm nor trouble, but I am in need of help.” She did not understand. At once he racked his brain for any words he might know in Avoshi, and came up with one which he remembered, “home?” He said, looking around as if he was confused. He pointed to himself, then asked again, “home?”

The two oldest seemed confused still but the youngest now called out to the others and ran toward the group. She pointed to him and said something to them, then got his attention and spun around in circles. Once she was sufficiently dizzy, she pointed in all directions and cried out “home?” as if she were lost from her spinning. Yongguk nodded and pointed to her, hoping this meant his predicament was understood.

The two oldest girls spoke again, and the oldest pointed off toward the setting sun, likely showing him the direction in which the closest Usli troops were stationed. She then paused and squinted at the sun, and motioned to him that it was going down. Night would fall soon. She beckoned him to follow her, and the three girls in the field returned to their work. 

He found over the crest of the hill there lay a ramshackle home, which the girl told him firmly was her own. As they entered, he found a small, one room home. A young toddler played on the carpeted floor with an old, dirty doll, and off to the side a woman in her forties was resting on a pile of blankets with a baby in her arms. The girl who had led him in said something to the woman, and he pointed to her and asked, “mother?”

They broke into laughter, bright and content, and Yongguk all at once came to realize he may have mixed up the words for ‘mother’ and ‘father’ in Avoshi. The girl pointed to the woman and said instead the proper word for ‘mother’ and Yongguk nodded with reddened cheeks. “Minyoung,” the mother introduced herself. She pointed to the girl who had led Yongguk in and said, “Yubin.” She held up one finger then all five, as if to say that Yubin was fifteen. Next she pointed to the toddler on the floor and said, “Yeeun.” She held up four fingers. Next to the baby in her arms she said, “Yuna.” Finally she pointed to him.

“Yongguk,” he said.

Yubin and her mother spoke for a couple minutes, and then Yubin beckoned him to sit on a cushion on the floor and brought him some tea. He drank and relaxed, found comfort in their home, and ended up playing with Yeeun on the floor, who spoke to him endlessly even though he did not understand her.

The girls from outside came in, and he was introduced to Yerim, who was twelve, Yewon, who was nine, and Yuri, who was seven. The younger two, seeing him play so easily with Yeeun, came to play with him as well, while the older three women began to wander about the house near the small kitchen area. By the time the sun had set, he found he was sitting with the baby in his arms, unsure of exactly what was happening. Men’s voices came from outside.

At once, three men entered the house, one who the children happily cried ‘Father’ to, and after the lot of them ran to him to embrace him. Behind him were two younger boys whom Yongguk recognized immediately. The first Yongguk to be the young boy from the boat. After him followed a breathtaking sight, his Siren, the young man who was singing in the boat that morning. He was more beautiful up close, and Yongguk felt the melody of a silent tune curl around his heart once more, seeking to rob him of it. 

The young man and his father noticed Yongguk, and looked to the mother of the family. He did not understand most of her words, but he did understand ‘Usli’ and ‘Yongguk’. He bowed his head to them, and let the young man take the baby from him with no complaints.

“Father, father, Sanghyuk,” Minyoung introduced her husband, pointing to the man and then her many children. She pointed next to the young boy, for he was closest to her, embracing Yuri, and said, “Yejun,” then held up her fingers to show he was seven. Yongguk supposed that meant he and Yuri were twins. Finally she pointed to the young man, or rather her oldest son, and said, “Daehyun.” He was only nineteen.

“Yongguk,” he introduced himself again. For the amusement of the young children, he showed with his fingers that he was twenty-two.

Daehyun seemed to not be distrustful with the baby of the family, as Yongguk had originally thought, but was rather a doting older brother who cooed and rocked the little thing, often kissing her face and tickling her stomach. Yongguk could not help but feel drawn and fixated by his sweetness, not just in appearance but in attitude. He was acutely aware that he was staring, given that every minute or so Daehyun would look up at him, grow red in the cheeks, then back down at Yuna in his arms.

Up close, he could see Daehyun had dark, warm eyes like a star-filled summer night and golden skin like he was born of the sun. He had the same tall nose of many of his siblings, from their father, and the same deep eye-pockets as all had gotten from their mother. Yubin came to sit on the floor with Daehyun and rest against him, and the two played with the small baby in his arms until Yeeun cried for their attention. The siblings all worked around each other and played, all loving and content with each other. Minyoung asked Daehyun a question, but it was Yejun who answered, saying something including the word ‘Usli’ that sent his siblings into a tizzy.

Minyoung pointed to Yongguk and asked Yejun a question, but he and Daehyun shook his head. In their conversation he heard mentions of the words he thought meant ‘Prince’ and ‘King’, though he was unsure. Perhaps they were talking of seeing Jongup at the lake? He supposed they did not recognize him as one of the party.

Once food had been made, the twins and Yewon worked together to pull out a small table from the corner, and Yongguk was invited to eat with them. There was not much food to go around, and both Sanghyuk and Daehyun took smaller portions so the others could all have more. Yongguk too insisted on a smaller portion, for he knew he would be well-fed when he returned home. Daehyun smiled sweetly at him as he repeatedly refused Minyoung’s attempts to give him more food, and some warm fire burned in his center at the pleased acknowledgement.

Sanghyuk called to him and then pointed outside where it was dark. He then said something to his children, causing the younger four to pretend to sleep. Yongguk nodded. The children pretended to wake up, and then Sanghyuk pointed to he and Yongguk, and then off in the direction that Yubin had pointed him in hours ago.  _ The Usli camp _ , he supposed he was being told he would be led there in the morning, and nodded that he understood.

For the rest of the evening he watched the family quietly, trying not to infringe when they were already showing him so much kindness. More often than not his eyes were focused on Daehyun, who cutely played with his younger siblings, warm and kind, radiating something Yongguk could not place. Daehyun may have been a normal young man from a large, poor family, but in Yongguk’s eyes he was something unexplainably fixating. With every look he felt something coil around his heart, and it only constricted more when he smiled or laughed with his siblings.

Yubin came to sit next to him after some time. She seemed quieter and more introverted than her siblings, but still he was surprised that she was comfortable sitting with him. “Daehyun…” she whispered something to him, of which he only understood her brother’s name. He turned his head to the side to show he did not understand. She called to her siblings, but her parents were quicker to respond, and then Sanghyuk caught Yongguk’s attention and kissed Minyoung’s cheek. Yubin pointed to them, then to Yongguk, then to Daehyun, whose face paled.

Yongguk’s face turned red and he found himself unable to answer. He tilted his head again to show he did not understand, or perhaps that he did not wish to. She asked her family again for help to explain, and Yewon and Yerim stood. Yerim pointed to herself then to Yongguk, as if to say she was him, and Yewon pointed to herself and Daehyun as if to say she was him. Daehyun all the while began to scold and yell at them, his face turning red as his siblings discussed something.

Yerim came to sit near Yongguk, once again establishing that she was being him, then put her head in her hands and stared dreamily at Yewon, who was pretending not to look. Yewon eventually looked over at her sister, and started to fan her face and twirl around in a silly fashion, then ran over and threw herself into her sister’s arms. Daehyun had buried his red face in his hands, clearly unhappy and embarrassed by his sisters’ antics, but before the girls could try to force Yongguk to respond to them, Sanhyuk called out to them and they pulled away with pouts on their faces.

They went to bed not long after, with not place but the floor to sleep. They passed along one of their blankets to him, with the rest of the family squishing together under the rest. When the morning came he was given breakfast, and then he and Sanghyuk mounted his horse and rode off in the direction of the Usli camp. As he went he felt as though his chest was hollow, as if his heart had been left behind. He felt a hollow emptiness growing inside him as he bid goodbye to Sanghyuk once they had reached the Usli camp not far outside of the nearest town.

It grew and grew, a dark and dreary chasm where his heart had once been, but as much as he longed to run back to Daehyun, he found himself being led into the camp, redressing in his royal attire, and being sent off to the royal encampment.

He was hollow by the time he arrived, only to be told his brother had been eagerly waiting for him. “How was your trip, Yongguk? You look weary,” Jongup worried when they met.

“It was all that I needed,” Yongguk replied. “Though I fear in the process, I’ve lost something dear to me.”

“If it’s the crown, you may have it still,” promised Jongup. He, despite his cunning act, was still the kind younger brother Yongguk knew well, and Yongguk trusted the offer would be made to him for the rest of his life.

“It’s yours, Uppie. I have given it away,” replied Yongguk.

“Then what?”

“I believe a siren has stolen my heart,” Yongguk murmured. “I will likely never see him again, but he has it now forever to remember me by.”


	2. 1. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it is a nightmare that haunts you, a lullaby will scare it away.
> 
> (To remind everyone, the first was a prologue, this is the first chapter. You will find the story has grown more complicated in the time that has passed :p)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If something isn't clear, please tell me! Constructive Criticism encouraged!!^^)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://foxjae.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/youngjaebunny)

“You speak without following your own words,” hissed Yubin, her voice hushed to avoid waking the young child in her arms. “You ask me not to enter the contest, yet you plan to enter yourself! It is not pride but realism, Daehyun, I have a better chance of appealing to the Prince than you, and a marriage of this kind, however loveless it may be, would ascertain our fates as living ones. You seek to starve us all with your stubbornness.”

“You seek to sell yourself as a doll to a wretched snake!” Daehyun replied, his hushed voice raising. “This is more trouble than a loveless marriage, it’s a contract to serve the Prince as his plaything. Do you not remember the fate of the young women that married the Avoshi Prince before he and his wretched father were beheaded? Each came one after the next to be ruined, beaten and raped, then thrown in the dungeon when their youth had faded. A marriage between a noble and a commoner spells servitude of the worst kind: you shall be a toy for him to play with— something to defile regardless of consent, break, and abandon for concubines. Why are you so content to roll in the dirt with those vermin? Do you not the rumors from the Capital — from those that detail the cruelty of the King? His brother serves him as a spineless pawn. Are you honestly so elated to be a viper’s puppet as well? Let me be the one to suffer it, Yubin, so that you may live your life in peace and happiness. I ask you not to enter not out of stubbornness nor vanity, but because as the oldest it is my duty to bear the worst such that you all may live better lives.”

“The odds will be better if I enter,” she argued. She was right. “With better odds, we are more likely to have the food we need to survive.”

“I’m not forcing you to marry just so we can feed ourselves,” Daehyun had argued back. They had been at odds since their parents passed two years beforehand, left in charge of their 9 younger siblings with no money nor means to feed themselves. “I’m not content to sell you like cattle for a chest of coins. It was my idea, and so I’ll be the one to do it.” Their house was small and crumbling, smelling of the woods that surrounded it and the candles that lit it at night. It was usually cramped and filled to the brim, with just one room for the eleven to share, and so it felt remarkably cold and empty with only five to fill the space.

Yubin stood with the youngest among them in her arms, rocking their bodies back and forth as she stared him down. The others had dispersed off either to fish or tend their meager garden in hopes of gaining something to fill their empty bellies with that night. “You say that as if I’m not making the choice myself, or as if the groom will be some sort of monster. It’s a prince, Daehyun, one who is known to be much kinder and more moral than the Avoshi that once owned our homeland. We may not know his face, his tongue, or his world, but it certainly can’t be so unpleasant. I’m old enough now to marry, and I lost hope of it being for love years ago, when Father got ill. It’s not as though I’m a child, and I have a better chance than you at getting to the final stage. Then we can only pray the King wills it.”

“But that’s another dilemma; don’t you see! There’s a strategy in sending you for the beginning stages, certainly, as a healthy young woman, you’ll be more appealing to the Prince and his aides than me, but when the choice is left to the King, you lose all favor. If we were to reach the final stage, the odds are in my favor over yours.” He certainly knew how to be insistent, having adjusted well to his role as head of household long before they had been orphaned. She was the only one who could argue with him for any sustained period without losing her wits and running off, save maybe the toddling twins playing on the floor, Minhyuk and Minwoo, who could argue with anyone about anything for any sustained period of time because three year olds rarely have any sense about them and do not often realize when they have lost.

“How so?” She was insistent.

“The King wouldn’t want his brother to have children, would he? Is he not the second son, with the Prince as the rightful heir? Did he not trick his father on his deathbed to take the throne out from his brother’s hands, to deny his brother of his birthright, and instate he the younger son as King in his stead? Would he not like to keep the throne for which he betrayed his brother at all costs? They’re a family full of hissing vipers, each trying to bite the other’s neck. If the Prince has no means of having children outside of concubines, he has no means of an heir, and thus no means to steal the throne from the King. If I reach the final contest, I have better odds than you.”

“How are you so certain the King and his brother retain such distrust or hate for one another? How are you so certain the King will sabotage his brother just for the slightest gain in security?” Yubin demanded.

“Why else would they seek an Avoshi commoner, if not because the King wishes to lower his brother’s status? We have lords and ladies still living, many with eligible descendants. If the goal were only to marry one of our people to appease our masses after the mass bloodshed that left us in their care, they could easily do so without lowering themselves to our level. Our province’s young Lady-to-be, even, would have been an acceptable choice. To pick a commoner instead is a simple, direct means to keep the throne in the King’s hands.”

“You assume the worst of them, but I cannot. The King has ruled for only five years, yes, but in that time he has shown only kindness to his peoples. The Prince to whom we try to betrothe ourselves is known solely as a principled soul, the moral compass that leads his brother’s rule. We know not a whisper about either beyond that, not even their names nor ages. How are you so certain on their characters and emotions? You cannot persuade me against entering the contest, however many times you may try,” huffed Yubin. “There is no resolution to which we’ll both agree. When tomorrow comes and we go to the Lord’s Square, I shall enter regardless of your discontent, and you may enter regardless of my own. It does not matter. So long as one of is chosen to be engaged to the Prince, our goal will be accomplished,” Yubin settled. She was forceful in her thinking, and Daehyun could not help but sigh and agree to her proposal.

Minyoung, the youngest, began to writhe and whine as she awoke from her nap, and Yubin was quick to press a hand to her forehead. Her face fell and her eyes met with Daehyun’s in sorrow.

“One of us must be picked,” mumbled Daehyun, as he rushed to grab their stolen herbs from the table and chew them up for the little girl. “It’s not just about feeding ourselves, the hunger I can bear. We can’t save her with stolen herbs; we need medicine.” The two carefully fed the crushed up herbs to the little girl, and shared a worried look.

“She won’t become healthy again without real help,” agreed Yubin, some soft pain hidden in the tears of her tone.

“Give her to me; I’ll sing to her again,” Daehyun requested. “She always improves for a short time when we sing. I’ll watch over the young ones for today, I know how you miss tending to the gardens, and you are better at those melodies than I. Sing softly, but do sing, for the land is barren and we must entice something to grow. I shall take Yejun fishing in the far lake again the day after tomorrow, if our plot fails us. There is no danger of being heard if we sing there, the Avoshi do not know of it, so we will be able to catch enough for a good meal and some change.”

“You’ve had spectators there before, those Usli soldiers not long after the war had ended,” Yubin argued.

“They said not a word of our tongue, nor did any come to arrest us. Regardless, that was five years ago, and I have not seen them once since. They were likely of the late King’s caravan, and have not set foot in our country since the new King and Prince returned to the Capital,” argued Daehyun.

“Do you remember the young Usli man who came to stay with us that day?” Yubin asked. “Or, I believe it to be the same day, perhaps they were more spread apart. My memories of things so far in the past warp together into one endless summer. He was the kind man that helped mother and I care for the young ones, the one who seemed to bear worry and hardship on his face, but refused a larger portion of our meal, if it aides your memory in the slightest. I had scarcely thought of his since that day, but now I wonder if we are fated to meet him again, for Yerim swore to me she has seen him in her dreams every night since the contest was announced.”

“Her foresight has always been exceptional,” agreed Daehyun. “Before they seized Uncle Minwoo and Uncle Minhyuk, she knew it would come. I remember in her youngest days she told stories of a great war to come while we scoffed at her imagination. What does she dream of?”

“I do not remember the details, we will need to ask for her full description when the night sets in.” Yubin had not spoke to him much longer before she set out to tend to the garden with the younger lot of siblings, and once night had set they all returned to find there was simply not enough food for all to eat. The oldest four: Daehyun, Yubin, Yerim who was but seventeen, and Yewon at the tender age of fourteen, all chose to go hungry for the younger bunch, and the next oldest two, Yejun and Yuri, the twins of only twelve years in age, both chose to share one portion so that the younger five could have more.

As they ate, Yerim described to the others her dreams, in hopes she could stave off their hunger with her tales. “I dream of him every night now, since the day the contest was announced. He comes from the forest with a stallion in tow, dressed in his rags, and tells me again and again just the word ‘lost’ while pointing to himself, to the center of his chest. I try to point him toward Usli, but he always refuses, wordless and points again to himself. Each night he grabs onto my hand to pull me closer to him, and I awake in confusion. The dream never changes, despite the fortnight that has passed.”

“I dreamt of an Usli man too,” said Yewon. “I know not his name nor his face, only that he spoke in Uslili, and thus must be an Usli man. He stood on a boat and sang a tune I did not know, but before he could reach even two measures in, a siren came from the deep to capsize his ship and steal him away. The dream came last night only, but felt more lucid than any dream I have had before and any moment of our actuality.”

They passed the early evening in such a manner, then most set off to an early sleep. The walk to the capital of their province the next morning was a long one, but once inside the city’s walls they found themselves amongst a stream of hopefuls that poured into the square just outside the home of the Lord that led their province.

The square had been decorated spectacularly to welcome the Prince’s aides to their ‘small, upright’ province of Ipa, one that had always been favored in the kingdom of old. Daehyun and Yubin were decorated as spectacularly as they could be, in their parents worn, old proper clothing which Yubin had stayed up late in the night to mend while Daehyun tried to convince their youngest sibling to rest despite her high fever and tended to her throughout the night to make sure it didn’t worsen. He had braided flowers into Yubin’s hair that morning and Yerim, far too young to enter such a contest, collected berries in the morning and crushed them into a paste so that they both could stain their lips a brighter color. Yubin and Daehyun, with careful hands and a stolen painter’s brush, had lined their eyes with charcoal to make them look fuller, and Daehyun had stained Yubin’s cheeks a little pinker with the remaining berries.

Neither was fully content, and both nervous, as they stood close in the square with the other youth of the city, all of whom prayed to be picked. Most wore clothes as worn as the siblings, some even worse off in rags that hung off skeletal bodies, and a very small, notable few stood in new robes or gowns, ornate and untouchable as they stood apart from the others and chortled at how the commoners truly thought there was a chance for them.

The names and ages of each participant were taken, those under an unannounced age were told they were too young and sent off, leaving the square half empty at the center, though crowds still gathered at the sides. Many were only there to gawk or pay their respects for the Prince’s aide that was meant to come, ever trying to remain in favor no matter who or where the capital. Others were children, shrieking and uncomfortable in the hot sun with no sense of why they were being kept there. Yerim stood in one of the far corners surrounded by their other siblings, each older one paired with a younger to keep the group together while she took the duty of supervising the whole lot. They were among the quietest, unsteady in the unfamiliar city with their oldest siblings gone. Then again, they were always amongst the quietest, taught not to speak in public from a young age.

Trumpets blared out an imperial march they were not accustomed to, and soldiers with shining plates of armor marched into the square from the gates of the Lord’s house, surrounding two men who came to stand at the head.  Those too close to a soldier cowered and skittered away like terrified bugs, but for each in the square there was no escape. Civil unrest would result in slaughter.

The two men at the head of the square seemed not to notice the fear amongst their subjects. They stood at average height and high beauty, but nothing like the supernatural monsters they were told of during the war years ago. Rather, humans, just as they were, however pretty the two men might be. One, who looked slightly older and more at ease in his position, stepped forward and spoke in a tongue unfamiliar to them, long and complex in his speech, though none understood. He seemed to pay no mind to the confused faces of those in front of him, with the exception of the notable few in new clothes who nodded their heads and furrowed their eyebrows, trying to remember the lessons of their Governesses.

The older of the two stepped back, and the younger, more nervous of the pair stepped forward to speak in their own language, Avoshi, marking relief among those in the square. “Dearest Citizens, the Crown thanks you for your warm welcome and your participation in our search. By my side is Kim Himchan, the Prince’s aide and longest friend, who has graced your province today to judge for himself who amongst you is the most appropriate person to join us in the capital. I, myself, am just here to translate, as he does not speak Avoshi. My name is Youngjae, of the Yoo merchant family.” He spoke like someone from the great merchant families, with each vowel seeming to hold the content of another language. The Yoo’s had once been a great house of the province next to their own, a name familiar amongst even the common folk.

Youngjae was likely the only one of them left alive.

“Those that have listed an age markedly too low or high have been removed from the pool of participants already. From here, you will show yourselves, give us a brief introduction, and tell us why you would like to marry the Prince. A select pool will be picked amongst you again, who will be asked questions by the Prince’s aide. One person amongst that group will be chosen to come to the capital, at which point the lucky few gathered from across the country will be honored with an audience with the King who will choose the best match for his dear brother,” Youngjae explained. “When I call your name, please step forward.”

The notable few in new clothes were the first to be called, each of whom stepped to the center of the square and were circled by Himchan. Each gave and long, winding introduction of their pedigree and status, some in Avoshi: the language of their home, and others attempting to bumble their way through Uslili: the language of the Crown. Even if he did not understand their words, Daehyun could tell each was struggling to express themselves properly. Those that he could understand offered the weakest of reasons as to why they wished to marry the Prince, some thought it was their birthright, others thought they could help the transition of the kingdom five years passed the war, and a small few manufactured stories of how they had met the Prince once and fallen into maddening love. Most of the notable few, excluding a couple young women, were asked to step away, and those that remained were asked to wait silently.

The commoner women were the next group to be called, and the vexing wait continued as each member of that, the largest group, stepped forward to introduce herself. They were asked to provide their names only, and then answer any questions asked of them. Each was dismissed quickly, some after only their name had been said, and others were implored to share if they had any siblings of a similar age. When that was the case, often the sibling would be asked to come forward and make their own case, and both would quickly be dismissed after.

Yubin spoke well when her turn came, in a small and humble voice, “I am Yubin of an inconsequential house, with no pedigree or status besides ‘orphan’ to my name.”

Before she could speak another word, Youngjae asked as he had for each candidate before her, “are there any siblings of a similar age that stand in the contest with you?” He seemed to be growing frustrated with the search, but when Yubin beckoned Daehyun to join her, something scrutinizing came across his face. “A brother, then, please tell us your name.”

“Daehyun,” he answered, with all hope lost for their cause. It had become clear to him they did not search for a commoner, but rather hid their true goals under the guise of such a search to inspire goodwill amongst their subjects.

The upset had wiped off of Youngjae’s face, who quickly turned to whisper to Himchan, and there was a long discussion before a guard was motioned, and Daehyun was yanked forward to be examined by the both of them. Youngjae stared closely at his face, as if trying to recall a long lost memory. “Your sister says you are orphaned, but you had parents once, did you not? Tell me their names and when they passed.”

“My father went by the name of Sanghyuk,” replied Daehyun, “my mother was called Minyoung. They passed just two years ago, only two months apart from one another.” Youngjae and Himchan looked not at him, but rather at a small booklet Himchan had with him. All at once they grew quite excited, and some of the soldiers that accompanied them seemed overly pleased with their excitement.

Himchan spoke very quickly to Youngjae and pointed to the book. Not a moment later, Youngjae turned to him to ask, “indeed we know of your sister Yubin, but would you happen to have any other siblings?”

“Ten, all younger than I,” Daehyun replied. He was prompted for their names and replied, “Yubin, Yerim, Yewon, Yejun, Yuri, Yeeun, Yuna, Minwoo, Minhyuk, and Minyoung, named after my mother.”

The excitement grew then faded at the last three, and Youngjae mumbled something to his cohort before inquiring, “how old are the last three you mentioned?”

“They are but three and not-quite-two in age. Minwoo and Minhyuk are twins, so they are the same age,” Daehyun replied.

Youngjae took the booklet from Himchan, writing a note in it and then the two shared a nod between them, one that set happy smiles across many of the soldiers’ faces. Youngjae spoke without waiting for Himchan’s directions, only settling in everyone’s minds that the decision had been made long ago, when Daehyun had first been pulled forward. “We’ll forgo the rest of the contest within your province, we’ve found those who best suit the Prince. Daehyun, Yubin, and siblings of the two that remain in the square, please follow us into the Lord’s house.”

The pair waited until the rest of their family had joined them, then Yubin set on carrying five-year-old Yuna and Daehyun, after hearing her whines, allowed nine-year-old Yeeun to climb on his back. They were led into the Lord’s manor, with every fiber of them spent on ignoring the outrage of the rich that such poor-looking commoners had been chosen.

The Lord’s manor was greater than all the places they had visited before, with well-kept, treated woods, soft carpets, and marble accents. They, half of whom had skipped dinner the night before due to lack of food, were left in awe at it’s grandeur, though the soldiers and the two aides seemed less than amazed.

“Have you found him this time, Yoo?” A warm voice called, and soon the Lord of their province came into the hall. Daehyun knew him only from his broach, and the lot of them were surprised to hear him speak Avoshi, as they knew him to be of Usli origin, instated after the war, and thus assumed he only spoke Uslili. He was a kind-looking middle-aged gentleman, once a respected knight who had since retired. His face bore new wrinkles as his age began to show, and behind him came the Lady of the house, who seemed to be the same age and a had motherly aura about her.

“Indeed, we have, Sir,” Youngjae replied. “We must thank you again for your kindness on these many visits, and apologize for all the trouble we have caused you.” Daehyun and his siblings grew silent and stood close together as the color drained from their faces. Had they been looking for him? Why?

“It was a pleasure to have you,” replied the Lord. “You and any member of the Court are welcome here any time. Shall I send for the messenger to inform the Capital? I am sure the King will be relieved to know of your success.” They grew more unsteady as the two talked, uncertain as to why Daehyun had been sought out. With little thought, he stepped in front of his siblings, protective, and the three eldest sisters gathered up the younger bunch in a protective ring.

The conversation continued as someone brought Himchan a quill and paper, on which he quickly wrote a letter.

“What had you done to warrant such interest?” Yubin hissed as Himchan wrote and Youngjae and the Lord spoke to one another. “You hadn’t sung, there is no apparent reason for their fixation.”

“They had dismissed every man they had interviewed before me as well,” Daehyun replied in a whisper. “I thought I didn’t have a chance in the slightest, yet now the both of us are to be candidates? I’m still unhappy that you plan to throw away your life like this, to marry a man you’ve neither saw nor met, but now I suppose we are set in our path.”

She argued, her voice quieting to a whisper, “how is it that I’m throwing my life away if I win, but the same does not apply to you? Is our sacrifice not the same?”

Daehyun sighed, and spoke in a tone that silenced her. Even though the nobles’ attention was occupied, he spoke so softly that not even their other siblings could hear, saying, “because it is my job as the oldest to make sure the rest of you can live your lives to the fullest. I’m not throwing my life away because it’s already my life and already my duty to provide for the rest of you. I want you to marry someone you love and live freely, not some royal snob so you can be the Capital’s pet. It’s not like this will be a normal marriage, Binnie, they’re looking for a doll who can improve their public relations with our country and with whom the Prince can amuse himself whenever he becomes too aware of his lack of power. You should be able to live your life happily, instead of becoming an outlet for a snake’s damaged ego.”

“Why does it sound as if they have been searching for you?” Yerim chimed in, her voice softer than even her usual attempts at whispering.

“We do not know,” replied Daehyun. “Perhaps they mistake me for another.”

“It must be so,” Yerim agreed.

Himchan finished his letter and sent it off with a messenger, and then he and Youngjae said their goodbyes to the Lord and Lady, off on their way to the next province. The Lord turned to the siblings finally, his expression still warm and cordial. “I hope you do not mind, but we’ve arranged for you all to stay here tonight, and set out for the Capital in the morning. It’s best to have a good sleep and a full belly before the week of travel to come.”

Daehyun, uncertain, looked to Yubin to respond. “We thank you very much for your kindness, Sir,” replied Yubin. She bowed her head and her other siblings followed suit. “I do not mean to impose, but may I ask a question of you, Sir?”

“Come with me to the drawing room first, it feels like you are in a haste to leave when we stand in the hall like this. I have some toys there leftover from my own children’s youth, so the little ones will be well-occupied.” Again they bowed their heads to him, and followed after him to the drawing room, a large space filled with a myriad of strange things for foreign lands.

The children were instructed to occupy a space on the floor, and brought toy horses, dolls, and other such things to play with. Yewon sat with the children to supervise them, and the Lady of the house came to sit with her and speak in broken Avoshi of her own children, and how they were when they were young. Yejun and Yuri, who both at twelve felt they were too old for such toys, feigned a lack of interest in them as they tried to amuse Minhyuk and Minwoo with a set of toy horses, though they quickly ended up playing with the horses together while Minwoo and Minhyuk rolled around on the floor in a foolish manner, for three year olds are often quite foolish.

The older children all sat on the comfortable chairs not far off from where the younger children were playing, brought foreign tea, and given sweet cakes. Once they were settled, though their hearts still pounded with unease, the Lord finally came to hear their question.

“It sounded as though the King’s aides had been here before looking for my brother,” said Yubin, unsure, “is that the case? If so, and if it is alright to ask such a thing, I would like to know why he was of interest of them, and how as well. We have never left our small village before, and we fear there is some sort of mistake at hand.”

“The boy named Youngjae has been here three times since the King’s coronation,” said the Lord. “He came first only seven months after the coronation, then again not a year later, then again a year and a half after that. This is the first time the other advisor had come with him, but that I suppose, is par with the circumstances of the contest. I know not much of the situation, only that a favor is to be repaid to you many years too late. I was told they were in search of young man named Daehyun, who lived not far outside one of the small villages nearby. He was to be between the ages of twenty-three and twenty-five, with many younger siblings all of whom had names that began with Y. His father’s name start with an S, his mother’s name with the syllable ‘Min’, and he was to have only one brother, who in turn had a female twin. I suppose the youngest three of your siblings do not matter towards these rules, as they were likely not born when the favor was given. It must have been five years ago or so.”

“Perhaps it was the wanderer Yerim dreams of, then? I’m saddened to hear he has gone through so much trouble to repay us; we had little to offer him and gave it with no expectation of repayment,” said Yubin carefully. “Still, we are grateful for the consideration.”

“Whatever favor you gave must have been great in his mind, for the King and the Prince have been very set on finding you. I’m sure your arrival to the Capital will be eagerly awaited. I, myself, am very relieved to see you found, and if I may implore you, do try to win the contest. We, with two candidates instead of one, and such lovely candidates as you both, have a better chance than most, and it would be quite a happy occasion to know someone from my own province, of my own care, was chosen to marry the Prince. It would bring good fortune and pride to our small province, so do try all you can to attract the Prince to yourselves. Perhaps if one is chosen, the other could seek to attract the King, for once one of you is married into the Royal Family, your status will be well enough to win his hand as well. That indeed would be a happy position for our lands, and would bring great favor to your countrymen.”

“We will try our best to win his attention, my Lord,” promised Yubin.

The man smiled. “Of course, I myself have two daughters, of the ages of sixteen and twelve. As such they’re much too young for the Prince, but perhaps if your family’s status is raised and one of your younger siblings is so inclined, an arrangement might be in our best interest?”

Yubin rested her hand on Daehyun’s knee and Yerim on his shoulder, both to keep him back, as Yerim took the turn to speak, her voice controlled and lilting in a practiced manner, studied very seriously by her for years on end under the instruction of their parents, “we are of course honored by your offer, my Lord, but we mustn’t deal in hypotheticals, don’t you agree? Your daughters are still young, just as we are. Perhaps it is that we are commoners, but to plan so far in advance for something so dependent on an uncertain outcome seems inadvisable.”

“What a wise young girl!” The Lord cried, and Yerim showed her relief that her trickery had not fizzled nor caused offence. “Yes, indeed, we shall discuss such things at a later date. For now, let us have you all fed and rested, such that your trip will be easier.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Yubin bowed her head, then Daehyun and Yerim copied.

The rest of the day was passed comfortably, and the evening gave way to an early sleep for the family. Many apologies were made by the Lord that some would have to share rooms, but the siblings preferred it that way, and each felt lonesomeness wear into their hearts that they only had about a third of their siblings nearby. The boys were all placed together — Daehyun, Yejun, Minwoo, and Minhyuk, though Minwoo and Minhyuk were given a cradle to share and Yejun slept on a trundle installed beneath Daehyun’s bed. Yerim, Yewon, and Yuri, the three teenage girls, took a room to share together, and the remaining children — Yeeun, Yuna, and Minyoung — were put together under Yubin’s watch.

When the night had grown dark and sleep had set in for the lot of them, hurried feet through the halls woke Daehyun. He sat up with a start to watch the door His heart pounded with them as they approached, and at once the door to his chamber opened and Yerim, in her nightgown with messy hair and a panicked expression, burst through. “Daehyun,” her voice broke through air in a whisper, and then she threw herself into her brother’s arms with a muffled sob.

“What happened?” Daehyun asked, as he held her close to him and petted her hair. “Is everything alright?” They remained sitting, with her face pressed into his shoulder and her legs off the side of the bed.

“I had the most awful of dreams,” she cried. “The wanderer came to me again, as he always does, and like every night he had pointed to his chest and repeated that he was lost. I tried again and again to point his to the Usli camp but he would not listen. All at once he pulled me towards him and rather than waking as I usually do, I found myself being led into the forest, to a lake unfamiliar to me filled with red waters, the sounds of sirens’ singing in the distance. He, finally releasing me, opened his shirt to reveal what was lost to him: his chest a gaping chasm with no heart to give him life. The blood from his gaping wound stained his clothes, the meadow, and the water, and once again he repeated the word ‘lost’ before lurching towards me.”

Her sobbing had quickly roused Yejun, though the young twins stayed sound asleep, and he quickly came up from the trundle, rounded the bed, and sat with the two of them to rub his sister’s back. “It’s alright, Yerim,” he said softly, unsure of what to do. “I have nightmares too at times, but they are just passing dreams.”

“And what if it does not pass?” She cried.

Daehyun pulled her to rest with her head on his chest such that she might hear his heart beating. “It shall pass,” he whispered, allowing himself to change from Avoshi to a different, more familiar language, for in the dead of the night there was no chance of being overheard. Even if both languages were native to them, one held much more comfort and a sense of family beyond the other— a sense of something else beyond that of family as well, something none of the eleven could explain.

“Brother, are you sure we can speak Ippari here?” Yejun asked quietly.

“Only for now and only in whispers, but while no one is awake save for us there is no danger,” replied Daehyun. He spoke to Yerim again, still in Ippari, but now in a much more lilting and cooing tone as if she was once again a small child, “‘twas just a dream, Yeri. The wanderer has no means to grip onto you.”

“What if it was more than a dream?” Yerim whispered.

“A man cannot be without a heart. There is no life one can live when it has been ripped from their chest. The wanderer is but a dream, and there is a good chance the dream simply morphed on its own because your mind is still set on Yewon’s dream of the Sailor and the Siren. If it were to come true, it would only do so metaphorically, I swear,” Daehyun comforted as he rocked her side to side and again pet her hair.

“If the wanderer comes for you, I shall protect you,” swore Yejun. Both of his siblings missed his practiced lilt.

A smile came to Yerim’s face, “if I have Yejunnie’s protection I know I’ll be well. I shall go back to my chamber then, I should not keep you up with silly worries when a great journey lays ahead of us.”

“Let me see you back and sing you to sleep, such that you may only have sweet dreams,” replied Daehyun.

“Are you sure it shall work if you go alone? I could help,” said Yejun.

“Stay to watch your younger brothers until I return,” implored Daehyun. “While we know Yubin has the most talent with lullabies, I, too, know them well. Beyond _The Siren to the Sailor, Medicinal,_ and _The Fisherman’s Wish_ , they are the songs of which I sing the most.”


	3. 2. The Calling Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Calling Song calls all to you — good fortune, love, and that which has been lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Chapters will hopefully be coming more frequently now, although I make no promises.
> 
> Since there are many languages and people and other random things I've given names to, I decided to give you all a small key:  
> They're ordered as Language - People - Place  
> Daehyun's family (secret): Ippari (language) - Ipparim (people) - Ipa (province)  
> Daehyun's family/other people from their old country: Avoshi - Avoshi - Avoshi (all three are the same)  
> Yongguk/Jongup: Uslili (language) - Usli - Usli (people and country name are the same)  
> Zelo: Amari (language) - Amarim (people) - Amara (country)  
> Merchant’s language - Aiyuni

“Shall we call on the doctor or the High Priestess today?” One of his servants asked the other, his voice holding some amount of amusement to mask the settling depression. “‘Tis eleven yet he has not even turned away from the drawn curtains.”

“I’ve sent for the King’s consideration on the matter. In the past week, he has not once awoken before half passed three and has not risen out of bed for longer than a minute. Prince Yongguk is simply too ill for my experience,” replied the other with a quiet, carefully measured tone of appropriate discontent. “I have seen no illness like this before; neither widows nor orphans tend to this sort of heartbreak for so long. Even the loss of the late Queen did not so leave her husband and children in such bleak wreckage.”

“Is it possible to label this disease as heartbreak? Do we know its true cause?” asked the first.

“Perhaps heart-loss is more appropriate a term, if you’ll allow it. As if stolen from his chest— a poet may draw gruesome metaphors to such an open wound. I’ve heard the maids tittering on of how he is a dead-man walking, as if jumped right from the grave. While all agree his illness is beyond experiential cause, some believe it is the death of his late father that truly broke him, others claim it is the King’s usurpation of his birthright, but many believe instead in the story both swear to—”

“The story that Amarim Choi boy told me? I barely trust a word from the Choi, it seems as though they only spin children’s fables. Their child is no different even after five years passed with he in the King’s care, though his certainty in the matter is disarming. ‘Twould be impossible to convince me a man of your experience would be mad enough to trust an Amarim’s word.”

“Yet, in fact, I believe him. In all honesty, against all logic, I found his tale to compelling to pass off. The county of Ipa is fabled to have once been Ippara, a land of  _ Ippi _ , ‘Sirens’ in our mother tongue, discovered by Amarim merchants when shipwrecked some uncertain centuries ago. Say it is ridiculous all you please but our Nobles are known to have been children of a dragon and the Moon. Should I believe in one, I find it difficult to refuse the other. I know not if the fabled existence of the Ippi ever escaped the shores of Amara outside of the Choi boy’s tales, perhaps the Avoshi settled there do not know of their county’s mythological origin. Yet, that is the fateful county in which the late King had parted from us, into the wilderness of which Prince Yongguk had disappeared for a full day by his own reports, a fortnight by some others, and from which his illness was born, although the years passing has certainly worsened him.”

“So it is some foreign-born illness of which the Avoshi are immune. There is no means by which you could truly believe—”

“That it was indeed a fabled Ippi, a siren that stole his heart from his chest? Of course I do not. I have two and thirty years as a royal advisor to my name, one cannot so easily paint me a fool. Yet, the myth goes on, if you remember.”

“My memory has dulled with age,” said the first.

“You are but thirty, your memory dims with boredom and obstinate disbelief. The Choi boy certainly told you of how the discovery of the Ippi was celebrated amongst his ancestors, those of whom avoided the siren’s songs by cutting off their ears or plugging them with tar. The Ippi, he says, shouted their delight at the Amarim’s cleverness, and allowed them to split their fins and bestow upon them a gift of purpose that all women certainly desire. They settled in the hills not far from their lovers nor the sea, visiting only at noon when the Siren’s were resting and lethargic, and in the meantime built themselves a new ship with which to return home. It took nearly two decades to accomplish, as they wished to bring back their trophies and needed tanks to contain them, yet when they came to steal their lovers away, they were met by a harsh group of young ones, not fish but men, who chased them away with more strength than that of any known man. I posit one of these mysterious peoples, who I furthermore believe to be the offspring of the aforementioned indiscretion, is the captor in this hostage-taking. I imagine she is a nefarious one.”

“Have you not heard?” asked the first. “Are you so well-versed in myth but so lacking in reality?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” said the second.

“The Yoo boy swears he’s found him, the dastardly captor, I mean. He and his sister are to stand as the candidates of Ipa. That is why after five years of tolerance, the King has grown so insistent the Prince leaves his bed— he wishes for them to meet in hopes it will be a lasting cure for the illness,” said the first.

“It is remarkable the King allows him breath if he is truly the cause, much less a chance within the contest.”

“One would believe the King wise enough to show some disbelief in the musings of the Choi boy. He is Amarim, after all, and Amarim are indeed storytellers in the best of esteem, but charlatans to almost anyone with sense. Perhaps he is simply waiting for proof this is not another fairy tale from the bored mind of a pseudo-captive.”

“Perhaps he considers him only for his worth as a man amongst a fruit-bearing bunch,” said the second.

Their hushed conversation was terminated by doors opening into the drawing room of Yongguk’s wing, and not long after had Jongup and Himchan come into the room to dismiss them. “Has he been the same since my departure?” Himchan asked. “I had hoped his heart would have healed upon our finding of his siren, but in his state I only find worry Youngjae had been mistaken.”

“Whether he was or was not, we do not know,” replied Jongup. “My brother has not left his room once since the contest was announced, as he quickly grew disillusioned with its proceedings. The servants report he seldom leaves his bed or dresses for the day, that forcing any sustenance upon him is an impossible chore, and that he rarely responds when others speak. The doctors of the last weeks since you left all report lethargy, cold skin, fever, chills, chest pains, and migraines amongst his many symptoms, yet no known cure has offered any relief.” Jongup sat next to the lump that was his brother on the bed, and placed his crown on the nightstand before he leaned back on Yongguk.

“Have you not told him of the candidate from Ipa, then? Is he unaware the one he longs for has almost certainly been found? Youngjae has always been very methodical and accurate in his search, so there is seldom a chance we are wrong.”

“There’s seldom a chance you are right,” Yongguk replied from under the covers, his voice deep and grumbling, rough from lack of use. “I’ve heard of this fake siren for the fortnight since his arrival. I know he is here. He is not the one who stole my heart. I know that too.” Neither seemed surprised that he was indeed awake.

“How would you know such a thing if you have yet to meet him?” Jongup chastised.

“Logic and nothing else,” replied Yongguk. “A child wood nymph sang me to his home. Her voice led me to him. Youngjae does not know her voice, so he has no means of finding her nor her brother, my siren.”

“Is that what passes for logic with you?” Himchan asked. “Your head is unscrewed.”

“Don’t take such a harsh tone with him,” requested Jongup. “He’s ill. Perhaps the high fevers of yesteryear have returned. Brother, Youngjae found him not in a house in the woods but in the town square, eager to see you and try for your hand.” He tried to press his hand to Yongguk’s forehead but was batted away.

“‘Tis not my siren,” replied Yongguk softly. “Only I could find him again.”

“Is that so?” challenged Jongup. “Then certainly I must send you to Ipa to find him, correct?”

Yongguk sat up. His hair was a nest ready for eggs to be laid upon, his face was swollen, and his eyes were hopeful and red. “Would you?”

Jongup smiled. “I would, most certainly, if it will heal you, brother. I cannot stand to see you suffer.” He let the joy in Yongguk settle for a moment before he spoke again. “There is but one issue I see. While the Lord of Ipa would certainly be pleased to house you, as I’ve heard he quite misses the society of the Court, I cannot simply send you off to him on a horse like a beggar. Arrangements must be made, and an appropriate amount of time must be given to him in preparation before your departure. I’m sure you have the good sense to agree in the necessity for basic manners. Two months should be a sufficient amount of time, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, of course,” Yongguk agreed readily, eager to agree to anything that would send him that way.

“What’s more,” Jongup had a tone and an air about him that Yongguk knew well enough to be scheming, “such a trip is quite a logistical and financial drain. Of course, you’re my dear older brother, so I’m more than willing to make the sacrifice for your happiness, but I need some sort of insurance that this trip will be worth it’s troubles, some assurance that you will spend it in search for your heart, not locked wallowing in your bed day-in and day-out. So you must humor my few demands for the next two months while you wait, to prove this opportunity won’t be squandered.”

“And what would those demands be?” Yongguk asked with narrowed eyes.

“You must leave bed, dress, and come down for breakfast each morning by ten o’clock. We shall eat lunch and dinner together each day, unless you choose another to eat with— Himchan, Junhong and Youngjae, any other friends you may find, I don’t mind— but they must report to me once your meal is done. From the time you leave for breakfast in the morning until our evening meal is finished, you are not to return to your room for longer than the time it would take to fetch something or change your apparel. You must spend the day outside of your quarters, whether it be on duty with me, in the library, the gardens, in town, wherever you wish I do not care as long as it is not your quarters. Finally, you must meet with all the candidates to the contest, as you agreed to the idea before it’s execution and good manners are in our best interests. I will have them set dinners for you and each candidate, two candidates per week, such that each has a turn at impressing you. At the end of the month and a half if all are completely unpleasant society for you, we shall send them all home with an excuse for your health.”

“Must I really meet with all of them?” Yongguk asked. “I do not wish to see anyone at all.”

“You must,” insisted Jongup, “however you may be as disagreeable and aloof to them as you please. I’m sure Himchan shall agree with me that this is the most advisable of means for our current plot. We must preserve face, after all.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty, I think you’ve concocted the perfect scheme,” agreed Himchan, a wide smile across his face. “Shall I see to it a dinner is prepared for them? Perhaps you may even join them?”

“That would be perfect, thank you.”

“And what of the siblings of candidates from Ipa? I suppose given the scheme you’ve set, the two candidates shall share their dinner slot with one another, and will have to compete with on another for Yongguk’s attention. The next oldest amongst them is yet a child at seventeen, to charge her with eight young children for so long would be unfair, and of course the reason we had their whole family come to the castle was precisely that. It would defeat the purpose of their long journey, and increase the suffering of the youngest that grew sick on the way.”

“Please, if there are young children, bring them. Simple conversation with a child ‘tis the only thing that may save me from this suffering,” grumbled Yongguk.

“You believe so, but I’ve heard the three-year-olds are quite argumentative,” replied Himchan in jest. “I shall go set the plans then.”

“Thank you,” replied Jongup. “I must run off to a meeting, but please get up and ready in the meantime. We’ll reconvene at noon for lunch, as is the deal, and then you shall have to amuse yourself for the day.”

 

The Royal Castle contained not one palace, but two, amongst its many buildings. When their family had been larger, each had been filled in every wing and room these palaces held, but with Yongguk and Jongup as the only remaining members of the royal family, the others lost to war, disease, or age, most of the space was left empty. The Southern Palace housed them and those that visited, leaving the Northern Palace empty at any time in the year where no major occasion was being put on.

Naturally, that is where Yongguk settled on hiding once his first obligatory meal of the day was over with. He had believed it to be empty. There were several small gardens there, separate from the large courtyard where some noblechildren would occasionally hide from their tutors.

He knew the Northern Palace well enough, and as such he knew one of these smaller gardens had a lovely little pond with koi and a gazebo nearby that seemed to be at the perfect angle to garner just enough breeze. Yongguk had them fetch a couple books from his study and set off there to pass his day free of anyone disturbing him. There had been servants milling about the second palace for whatever reason, but he had not thought long about it. Both they and his guards understood his nature well enough to keep space such that he could feel as if he were alone.

Upon the doors to the courtyard opening, a breeze brushed by him and he froze. His face went pale and his hands were shaking. That draft carried in a forest nymph’s voice, sweet and strengthening in a way that riddled him with memories, though now she was older and more practiced. He took an unsteady step forward, and her long hair, softened by the sun, came into view. She was kneeling by the koi pond as she sang, and the fish gathered round her with interest in her song, yet they did not jump up at her or lie still as they had once long ago for her brothers in the boat. Instead they simply seemed to be enjoying her song as he did, a song that compelled him forward, pulling him by the strings of his missing heart, step by silent step.

“Shall I dismiss the young maiden, your Royal Highness?” asked one of his servants.

The song stopped, and the young girl stiffened. Without moving her head more than an inch, as if to hide her face, she peaked up at them through her sun-lightened hair, fear evident in her form. Upon seeing Yongguk before her, the color drained from her rosy cheeks and a shaky gasp escaped her. She jumped up and away from him, and took on the expression of someone confronted by a specter. 

Yongguk took a cautious step forward. The wood nymph bolted from the garden. “Wait!” He called, without thought of how she would not understand him, and ran after her urgently. However, out of shape and practice from five years spent mostly in his quarters, more often than not in his bed, he found himself lagging behind as she gained distance from him. “Follow her until she stops. Lead me to her,” he ordered two of his guards, who ran ahead of the bunch of them. “Don’t scare her!” He begged them as they went.

He paused his pursuit to catch his breath, panting heavily and gripping onto his chest. Something was stirring there. He straightened, and found confusion amongst his servants and guards. “Your Royal Highness,” said one, emboldened by the length of time he had served the prince, since boyhood, “do you know that girl? Why do you chase her?”

“She is the sister of my siren,” replied Yongguk, his voice harsh and excited. “Her face has changed over the years but I know her voice. ‘Tis she. ‘Tis the forest nymph that led me to him five years ago.” He took in their surprise without worry, but regarded them carefully before speaking again. “Let us go towards her then, until the end of the corridor in which she disappeared. When I am led to her, you all are to remain behind unless I call for you.” 

Before walking forward, Yongguk paused to pull off he broach, marking him the prince, and hid it in his pocket. He gave them no time to comment before continuing down the corridor, and it was not long until one of the guards who had chased after her came back to show him the way to her room. 

His chest was aching as he approached the door, and some part of him still refused to believe what was happening around him. One of his servants fretted that he looked quite ill, and he most certainly felt it, but he brushed her away with a firm, quiet order. He could feel it, ever so softly, the snake that just barely peeked into his head, the tune that had his heart wrapped up in its tail. A deep breath did not prepare him. Yet, he continued on.

An unsteady mind led to unsteady hands, yet he bid his servants to stand down the corridor, out of sight of the doorway, and then opened it gingerly himself. There was a small shriek as it opened, the kind common of small children, and then before him was a lot of them. 

A young girl, younger than the forest nymph but not quite a child, stood to face him, and no one older than she was in the room. There were varying doors leading away from the room he entered, however, so he could only assume the wing was rather expansive, and the forest nymph had hid further inside. The girl bowed to him, and then studied his visage carefully, as if trying to recall him.

Not far from his feet, two toddlers rolled around on the floor in a silly matter, in an argument of ‘no’s and ‘yes’s of which both had likely forgotten the origins. It was clear their argument was no longer for resolution, but rather a form of repetitive play. Further back in the room two more girls of childhood-age played together with dolls, though their play was interrupted by him and they joined their sister in staring at him in confusion. The oldest amongst them told one of these girls something, and the girl ran off into another room. From somewhere deeper in the wing, a baby was crying. 

A commotion came, clattering and loudly conversing, from inside the room the girl had run off to, and Yongguk shifted from foot to foot, unsure, as he waited for any sort of response to his presence besides the blank and confused stares he was receiving. He could still feel the tune worming around in his head, stirring up a palpable nervousness in his heart, and eating away at the small courage that brought him into the room.

A door opened, and the young girl returned with the yet oldest girl in tow. It was all so familiar, except now instead of fearfulness, she smiled upon seeing him. She said something to him in Avoshi, and then giggled when he did not understand. He had been determined to learn it at one point, but his illness was too great to even so much as begin.

She pointed to him, then held up all five of her fingers, and then gestured behind her. From there she repeated the word “home”, one of the few he understood, while looking in all directions. Yongguk nodded. She remembered him, and clearly favorably in the way she smiled with delight. She paused their strange communication to speak with her siblings, and Yongguk presumed she was telling those that were too young to remember him who he was.

Briefly he considered sending for one of the translators, such that he would finally be able to express his gratitude to the properly, but he decided not to. Later, perhaps, he would consider more, but he thought it nice to have their first meeting the same as their meeting five years prior.

“Yubin,” said the oldest, pointing to herself, and Yongguk remembered her quite well in an instant. She was the oldest sister if he was not mistaken, in her mid-teens when they met last. She had been a quiet girl, but quite sweet and gentle in her mannerisms, and amusing in her teasings of her brother. Age had brought her more confidence in her smile, but her movements remained reserved and careful as her pale blue frock swished about her legs. After just a beat of amusement, she held up two and none fingers to show she had reached the age of 20.

“Yongguk,” he replied, and for the sake of amusement and tradition only did he hold up two and then seven fingers to tell them his age as well. They both laughed in a gentle, familiar way, and Yongguk felt brighter, for it was the first time he had laughed in awhile.

Yubin grabbed the next oldest girl by the arm, the one who had stood and bowed when he entered the room and later called for Yubin to join them. There seemed to be a small argument against them, as the girl kept turning away and covering her flushed face in a juvenile matter, but finally she was coerced into facing him and saying, “I’m Yewon. I’m fourteen years old,” in quiet, accented, slow Uslili.

He could not hide his delight, and repeated as many positive affirmations as he could remember in hopes his meaning would be understood even once. He supposed she had asked someone to teach her Uslili while on the way to or in the Capital, and presumed she knew very little outside of basic statements and numbers, which seemed to be the case in that she could not respond with anything other than a shy smile, her eyes cast down at her yellow dress. He had remembered her to be a bit bashful when they first met as well, but bright and quick in understanding him in his gestured language.

The younger of the two girls that had been playing with dolls seemed eager and likely begged her sister to teach her to say it as well, for Yewon turned to her and said very carefully, “I’m Yuna. I’m five years old.” The two repeated it very carefully between them several times over before little Yuna ran over to him, full of excitement, only to seem to forget her statement when he kneeled down to greet her. She looked back to Yewon, who came to kneel by her side and say the words one by one to her, which she repeated one by one to Yongguk.

He could not help his smile. She had been just an infant when he met her, and had grown into an adorable little girl.

She shrieked, clearly pleased with herself, and ran to her little brothers who had finished their wrestling on the floor, dragging them both to him with excitement as she spoke to them. Finally she got them both to stand in front of him, smiling in the endearing way only young children can, and carefully taught them to say the word “I’m” and nothing else. They clung to her arms and struggled to meet his eye at first, but after reassurances from Yubin and Yewon, one said, “I’m Minwoo,” in a very child-like way, as if some of the sounds did not yet fit in his little mouth.

His brother was more bashful, but Minwoo slowly counselled him through his fears, or Yongguk assumed that was what he was doing, until his brother came to say, “I’m Minhyuk.”

Yubin held up three fingers and pointed to the both of them, then entreated Yewon to say it in Uslili. Her sister refused several times over before mumbling with embarrassment, “he… are… three years old.”

“‘They are three years old’,” Yongguk corrected in the softest manner he could, but it did nothing to prevent Yewon’s subsequent bashfulness. He smiled kindly at her, and once again tried to give some positive affirmations about her speaking, careful and basic in hopes she would understand.

The last of the children in the room came finally, but no matter her siblings begging she would not introduce herself in Uslili. “Yeeun,” she said with a finger pointed to herself, and then she held up eight fingers, which Yubin gently corrected to nine. She hadn’t been as shy when he met her first, but perhaps that was because they had played together from the start, and because four year olds tend toward the same sort of indiscriminate sociability as five and six year olds. He supposed she was likely still as playful as he remembered her to be, given the silly way she twirled around in her frock, but supposed the shyness of later childhood was setting in as it naturally does.  

With each of the children introduced, he took Yubin’s hand gently in his to shake it, and bowed his head to her as he did so in Court custom. She mimicked the gestured with kind confusion, and he felt a spark of warmth and affection in her way her hand brushed against his. She pointed behind her, further into the wing, and then held up three fingers. He wondered what she meant. He wondered where Daehyun was, though he did not try to ask for he was embarrassed that he could only recall Daehyun’s name and no one else. He endeavored to keep that detail a secret if he could. 

Yubin said something to her siblings, and Yewon was the one to reply while walking further back into the wing. She went into the room Yubin had emerged from, and came back in a moment with the wood nymph in tow. She looked at him with terror, and Yongguk did not understand. She and Yubin whispered, her voice quiet and full of fear while Yubin’s was calm and reassuring, until she could bring herself to face him. “I’m Yerim. I’m seventeen years old,” she said with Yewon’s help. 

She had been afraid of him when they first met as well, his first impression twice over was that she was easily made to be afraid, but she seemed to adjust quickly, even if she could not meet his eye. Rather than stare sheepishly at the floor as her two more bashful sisters had, she kept her eyes fixed on his chest, and he appreciated the gesture of her acknowledgement. She had been on the precipice of her teenage years when they met first, and had become quite amusing and teasing once she had warmed up to him. He had given her a significant fright, he supposed, so he would allow her all the time she needed to recover.

All was quiet and unsure after Yongguk introduced himself again, sorry to make the poor girl so afraid. He tried to keep his quiet voice even quieter, and to hold himself in a way that would not threaten her. In the following moment, it was quiet enough for him to realize the baby had stopped crying, and then a door opened.

His heart choked in his throat on its way back down to his chest. It stuck there and deprived him of breath in anticipation, and the moments in which he waited for someone to pass through that opened door were the first in his life in which he understood what was meant by ‘hours pass in mere moments, but moments seldom pass in years’. Five years waiting for him seemed to have taken no time at all, but the briefest moments he waited then seemed to take decades. He stood as if completely frozen as he waited, but it was not Daehyun who first passed through the door.

Out from the room ran a toddling little girl, small and unsteady on her feet in a way that implied she could not be older than a year and a quarter. Unlike most children of her age and size, she wore a full dress and long, thick stockings, and her hair was long enough to be braided as her sisters’ were. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks were rosy.

“Minnie!” Both of the three-year-old boys screamed in delight, and ran to the little girl to hug her in a clumsy manner. However, very little time was made available to him to coo over them.

A nerve struck within him like a clock striking midnight when he saw him come through the doorway, his heart chiming out the time as it settled back in place. It was not excitement, not blinding joy, not a fluttering of his stomach that met him as his eyes met with Daehyun. No, it was calm. Rough waves of the sea were brought to be still. A ground-quaking, thundering storm faded into a sleepy drizzle. All that was lost was once again set into place.

Daehyun had lost much of the baby fat around his cheeks in the past five years. His body was lean and muscular in a way unique to the starving peasants that made their livelihoods through hard labor. Yongguk had heard they had been orphaned and wondered of the hardships they must have faced since then.

How, then, did Daehyun greet him with such a cheery disposition? His smile radiated outward to warm the coldest spot of Yongguk. Where he was once frozen over, he was melting.  _ Chime _ came the bells in his heart, but softly, just underneath, a drizzle as he melted down. Daehyun’s smile was cat-like and sweet, and Yongguk remembered well that he thought him to be a kind soul who gave away his smiles easily. He was someone selfless and hard-working, who thought of his family before himself. Yongguk thought that indeed, Daehyun had some strange effect on his heart, but deeper in there was set, well-deserved admiration there. He was a good, upright person first, before anything else, and Yongguk thought himself lucky to find himself in his company even twice.

Daehyun begged Yewon in the way that only a doting older brother could, until she carefully taught him to say, “hello, I am Daehyun,” which he proudly repeated to Yongguk, who responded in kind. They shook hands in the customary Court fashion, though Daehyun seemed much more accustomed to it than Yubin had. 

Daehyun spoke with excitement to his siblings, a sort of delight in his voice that otherwise carried the roar of waves across beach sand. As he spoke he turned about until he found the little toddling girl that had escaped him earlier. He scooped her up and spun her around until she screamed out in glee, then sat her down on his arm and presented her to Yongguk. “Minyounggie,” he cooed affectionately.

Behind him, Yubin signed the number and then the number ten. A year and ten months, perhaps? She seemed much too small for that age, but he was no expert on young children.

Little Minyoung reached for him, and Yongguk took her happily and bounced her up and down with a smile. “Cute,” he cooed in Uslili, and the little girl parroted him in a manner that almost sounded like what he had said. She gripped onto his face and tapped it with both her hands, and Yongguk could not help but peek over to Daehyun as he laughed.

“Yejun… Yuri…” Yongguk did not understand the words Yubin said, but the names reminded him of the boy-girl twins that were missing, and through all of their gestures he slowly came to understand the two were out on a stroll.

Minyoung began writhing in his arms until he held her up a little higher and ceased bouncing her, and then she held his face and sang to him an unfamiliar tune with syllables that no way resembled words in any language. Yongguk smiled with a sort of fondness many feel toward young children and complimented her in Uslili when her song was done, even going so far as to change the manner in which he was holding her so that he could clap his hands, which delighted her to no end.

Daehyun clapped along too when his youngest sister looked to him. He came close to clap for her and coo at her with Yongguk, only pausing to pick up one of the three year olds who had endeavored to climb up Daehyun’s leg so he could hug Minyoung again. Daehyun had bent down to come face to face with her, and looked up at Yongguk through his lashes with a happy smile. When he brought the little boy up to match his sister’s height in Yongguk’s arms, both men felt their faces flush in the sudden realization of exactly how close they were standing, now face to face.

_ Oh how loud those chimes came! Oh how lightning struck him, lighting him up! _ Yongguk floated on his calm waters. He thought he must devise a way to keep Daehyun with him forever. Oh, the happiness that would bring! How could he have Daehyun by his side for all his life? The silent tune curled through him, and settled in his warm heart.


	4. 3. Medicinal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let my song be medicinal
> 
> Let me heal all wounds
> 
> Anything payable is fixable
> 
> And I’ll surely pay you soon

“Yewonnie, go off and find Yejun and Yuri, would you?” Yubin bid softly. “They’ve been gone quite a long while and I’m sure the doctor will be here soon.” She had taken it upon herself to speak in a much softer tone since Yongguk had arrived, and her sisters had yet to decide if it was discomfort with a stranger in the room or a budding crush that was affecting her.

Daehyun already knew, easily even. He knew in the way she had sat herself close to Yerim and started to brush out her hair, despite all of Yerim’s objections. He knew in the way she watched them out of the corner of her eye, even though he and Yongguk had not moved much since they had both settled on the carpet with the varying toddlers to play. He knew not just from the timbre of her voice but from the Ippari accent that broke through in her normally guarded speech. She was trying to keep the lot of them from his attention. “What are you expecting from him?” Daehyun asked, not looking back at her. He was much too occupied with watching Minyoung as she toddled around him excitedly. He winced whenever she fell.

“You can’t expect me to discuss this with you while he’s here in the room with us,” she reprimanded. “Go on, Yewonnie. Yejun’s gotten the rash on his hands now and Yuri has small flecks of it on her shoulders. They must meet with the doctor when he comes, and none of their fussing over how they’ll sing to one another. There’s access to real medicine here, we ought to be using it.”

With Yewon gone, Daehyun continued to badger his sister, “he won’t understand you. Until the translator comes with the doctor, we could say anything we like without consequences. We could even speak of how pompous and arrogant I find the Crown.” He had a small smile as he went about teasing her, knowing well how to get on her nerves as she set on braiding Yerim’s hair. “Well, don’t go on so quickly to defend them,” he teased, “two weeks of travel, two weeks since we’ve arrived, and not once have they so much as sent a servant to speak with us or the other candidates. I doubt they’ve even thought of us and the impending contest date. It’s shameful, isn’t it, Binnie? They seek to marry him just by looks alone, and we are meant to be toys to—”

“I hear the Prince is quite ill,” she cut him off shortly. “I’m certain he has only avoided us for that reason. And the King—”

“—is a horrendous snake of whom everyone in the Capital fears, who stole the crown from his older brother and likely even kill—”

“—is likely busy with… kingly duties of some kind,” she replied. Yerim whined that Yubin was pulling her hair, and Daehyun supposed he was pushing his sister a little too hard until he got the answer he was looking for, “you detest the Crown and everything attached to it, and would never be satisfied if either of us were married to royalty. But Yo… our dearest wanderer...”

Yongguk did not seem to notice their conversation beyond mild curiosity, but he was mostly occupied by the twins, who were trying to wrestle with him and slowly besting him, to his amusement. 

“Our dearest wanderer,” Daehyun replied, soft, almost in wonder, as the twins finally managed to knock Yongguk on his back while he laughed. The two’s eyes met, neither realizing the swell of heat in each other’s faces the way the older girls of the room did.

Yerim was the first to speak, a calm whisper to her sister, “oh I certainly see what you’re thinking, Binnie.”

“Yewonnie whispered it to me not long after he came in,” replied Yubin, “perhaps your dream does have some bearing, hm? Not a deadman walking, but his long and troubled search for us would certainly stand to have more reason to it if… if I remember correctly you and Yewonnie suspected it then as well. I certainly remember the both of you teasing the two of them of their… expressions, shall we say.”

“What are you on about?” Daehyun asked. “What was all this about my detest for the Crown and our possible marriage to that conceited Prince?”

“Yongguk is an upright man, is he not?” Yerim spoke for Yubin, in that lilting tone she had practiced for so long. “He is kind in every manner, polite even when I slighted him with my fear. My, he even searched for us for five years just to thank us for a small act of kindness when his luck had run short, and look how happily he plays with the little ones! His lovely clothes are most certainly being soiled rolling on the floor like that, yet he pretends to be dead and defeated.”

“He’s not pretending!” Minwoo whined.

“Yeah! He’s dead!!” Minhyuk agreed. “We killed ‘im all the way!”

“All the way!” Minwoo cried.

Yongguk looked concerned at their sudden upset, and Daehyun motioned back to Yerim in hopes he would understand. 

“Why dont you see if you can’t bring him back to life, Minnie?” Daehyun asked them. “Just tap on his chest a couple times, lightly don’t hurt him, to make his heart start once again, and then pull him up by the wrists, okay?”

With the toddlers pacified with play, Yubin continued Yerim’s thought. “He is wearing something quite fetching, isn’t he? How his luck must’ve changed to be wearing such an expensive-looking fabric, inside the castle no less! And to have sent that Yoo boy looking for us so many times, to have co-opted the Prince’s contest in order to bring us to him… well, he certainly must be possessing quite a large amount of luck. How things must have changed!”

“Are you aiming? I did not see you with a rosy bow and arrow,” teased Daehyun.

“We need not aim,” replied Yerim. “Cupid’s already struck him for us. He seems so fond of you. I’d dare to imagine if you were to sing the Siren’s Song to him, one could presume we would be as lucky as he by the end of the week.”

Both Yubin and Daehyun scolded her. “We do not sing that song,” Yubin insisted firmly. “‘Tis not right to steal someone’s heart with anything other than your own natural charms. ‘Tis not who we are. Only the most terrible thief would steal in that way, and you know better than to suggest it, even in jest.” Her accent came in heavy with the flustered way in which she spoke. “Even the young ones know we do not sing that song.”

“Watch your tongue, Yerim,” Daehyun scolded after her, his tone a sudden seriousness that harkened back to their father in the few times he had been angry. Sometimes it was that likeness that made him unbearable, the same voice as their father, and the same jovial spirit as well. “Even in jest, we could not suggest such a morally bankrupt thing, especially for the gain of money. If done in love, it is the insanity of love, and still wrong and unjust, but to do it out of love, only for gain— no matter how destitute we become, that is not a possibility. Not even in jest, Yerim. That song never ought to be sung amongst outsiders.”

Yongguk had paused his play with the twins to watch them, confusion sung out on his face at what had the three oldest so agitated. And yet, it was not only them, but also Yeeun and Yuna who had paused their playing with dolls, and the three toddlers seemed unhappy as well.

“‘Twas only in jest,” she promised softly. “I know better than it.”

“I should hope so,” Daehyun agreed.

“Father always said we ought not to sing it at all,” said nine year old Yeeun. “He and Mother told me we ought to never learn the words. ‘Twas Daehyun who taught it to me.”

“”Twas he who taught it to all of us,” replied Yubin. “Grandmother taught him, and then Father forbid the rest of us. That’s why he rode with you out to the Far Lake and taught you while you were fishing there. We cannot sing it amongst anyone who is not family… if we were to stay here I do not know how the youngest three would learn it… Perhaps for the better.”

“We ought to not sing it,” parroted Yuna.

“It’s part of our history,” came Daehyun’s sharp reply. “Each of those songs is a story as to who we are, and regardless of our inability to use it, it’s important to learn. We cannot forget who we are, we cannot lose a single note. If we stay here, I will find a way to teach them.”

“To teach them a song they have no use for, on that can only bring trouble—” started Yubin.

“You’re agitating Yongguk,” Yerim pointed out, and the lot of them went quiet to look over to him. He was looking back, an immense amount of worried confusion in his expression. “Does anyone have an excuse and a means to express it through gesture alone?”

“I would like to try!” Yeeun declared, as if a fun game had been suggested. She stood excitedly from where she had been playing with her new dolls with Yuna (courtesy of one of the Avoshi-speaking noblechildren that Yejun and Yuri had befriended) and came in front of Yongguk. Minyoung tried to run by her as she went, and the little girl swept up her sister and presented her to Yongguk. She pet Minyoung’s hair once or twice before pretending to cough and sneeze and itch herself red until Yongguk’s face fell and he seemed to understand the little girl was ill. 

“Perfect, Yeeunnie,” praised Daehyun, “thank you. Now then, what were the two of you proposing before?” Yongguk was watching Minyoung with a sad expression, though he looked up at Daehyun often enough. Minyoung had since started to play some sort of chanting game with Minwoo and Minhyuk, but she could not yet speak so it was only nonsense they were going about saying. It was certainly unusual, she was delayed in just about every sort of manner.

“Only that he seems to have some interest in you. He stares whenever you aren’t looking. He searched for us for so long, but if I remember correctly he only remembered your name, from what the Yoo boy said. When you came out of the room, his expression… well, he just seems very interested,” replied Yubin.

“More than that, he’s handsome, is he not? Handsome, kind, humble, great with the young ones, friendly to all of us— he’s very pleasant and agreeable. I could only imagine how that feeling might be amplified if we understood one another and could converse with him,” agreed Yerim.

“I like him,” said Yeeun.

“Me too,” parroted Yuna.

“He is very agreeable company,” said Yubin, “and he is not the Prince, nor the King. If either of us we to become involved with the Crown, you would be miserable, Daehyunnie. Do not try to hide it, we all already know your hatred and disgust in them well enough. If we were not so endangered, you would not have heard of us even so much as entering the province capital for a fortnight prior to the contest or hence. Yet, here is an honorable knight who has already devoted so much time to us, who is most definitely pleasant society to keep, who is, if his clothing is of any indication, likely well-off in this world, and who seems to hold affections for you…”

“Are you suggesting I woo him? Or that I drop out of the contest to pursue him?” Daehyun asked. He chewed on his lower lip and looked over to Yongguk nervously.

“Let’s not act rashly,” said Yubin. “I am only suggesting that if he were to fall for you, it might be the most agreeable means to continue our lives. Unless… unless you are opposed.”

Daehyun’s face was turning quite red. “I would indeed be lying if I implied that I was.”

Before another word could be uttered, the door opened and five children entered. Yewon and Yejun were at the head, and behind them came Yuri, with her arm hooked with one of the noble girls she had befriended, Hyunjin, and behind them came Hyunjin’s cousin Jiwoo, who lit up like the sun the moment her eyes landed on Yerim. She seemed to miss Yongguk, but Hyunjin did not, and was quick to try to greet him, only to be met with a panicked shushing. The three— Yongguk, Hyunjin, and Jiwoo— conversed in Uslili for just a couple moments too long before it was quiet.

“Who is he?” asked Yejun while adjusting a small pair of gloves he was wearing, given to him by the doctor on his last visit.

“Our wanderer has found us once again,” replied Yubin with a smile.

“And Yerim is all right?” He asked carefully. They were never sure if he was similar to Daehyun or their late father in his kind worrying.

“All is well,” promised Yerim. She smiled, and then turned to the new children who had joined them, “and good day to you, Miss Jiwoo, Miss Hyunjin.” Greetings went around twicefold before Yerim got to her point, “it was quite a commotion when you came in. Was Yongguk giving you trouble?”

“He hasn’t the capacity to give anyone trouble, Miss Yerim,” replied Hyunjin kindly. “P… Yongguk was simply asking us to skip our usual formalities with him, because… because he wishes to…” she looked to Jiwoo for help.

“He does not wish for this to become an uptight and formal situation,” supplied Jiwoo, though she was not quite convincing. “Yongguk is used to a very high level of formality and Court-ruled pleasantries which can be very… unpleasant and unappealing to someone as humble as he. He had just asked us not to greet him in our usual manner, and to speak to him informally for the while we are all gathered here.”

“Does he hold such a high position as to be restricted to the Court alone?” Daehyun asked.

“No, no, he is… his brother— a very doting and loving brother, mind you, despite what people may say— is the one to hold a certain high place within the Court. Yongguk has a reputation of avoiding the matter as much as he can,” said Jiwoo, while attempting to sit as physically close to Yerim as she could. Yerim did not object when Jiwoo hooked their arms and fixed a couple strands of her hair, and her siblings all quickly wondered if she had been hit by a rosy arrow herself. Yewon had sat down as well, but on the floor with Daehyun, where she leaned against his side while asking Yongguk how to say random things in Uslili. He seemed delighted to humor her, and she traded Avoshi translations of the objects she pointed out for Uslili ones.

Hyunjin and the twins had already bored of them, and went about gathering all the young children up for some sort of game that involved hiding and quite a large amount of shrieking.

“What sort of reputation does he have besides that,” asked Yubin. “We’re quite fond of him, you know, even if we’ve only met him twice.”

“Have you met him before?” Jiwoo replied.

“Only once,” said Yubin, “five years ago. He was lost in the woods, and came upon our home. We housed him for the night and then helped him back to the Usli camp the following morning. From what we gather, he has been searching—”

Yubin could not finish her statement because Jiwoo had screamed something in delight. It would have been nice if they had known what, but she had spoken in Uslili, to Yongguk, rather than to the group of them. Hyunjin had immediately looked out from from where she was hiding, a confused but delighted question on her lips. Yongguk had replied to the two of them with a smile and a nod, amongst his softly spoken words, and the girls had been ecstatic.

“What is this sudden euphoria?” Yerim teased.

“We are just happy he’s found you. And the… well, it can’t be Yejunnie or the little twins, so it must be Daehyun, mustn’t it?” replied Hyunjin in a soft but happy tone.

“There is no doubt, indeed,” agreed Jiwoo, who then turned to Yongguk to ask in Uslili, with Daehyun’s name on her lips. Another nod, but this time it was followed by a stern order. “Oh, what a happy day it must be.”

“What was that about Daehyun?” Yubin asked.

Jiwoo went silent. After a moment, she spoke again, a blinding smile on her face. “You asked of Yongguk’s reputation, correct? Well, he’s known to be quite the moral character, beloved by anyone with sense. He’s thought to be very intelligent— his brother as well— and while he is quiet and may seem distant, I have heard a growing consensus that he is a very gentle and kind soul who thinks and acts selflessly. Whoever is lucky enough to be offered his hand will truly be that happiest in the world. I have seldom heard a word against him, outside of how his expression can sometimes be intimidating.”

“That I understand quite well,” said Yerim softly. “Twice now, he’s given me a fright upon meeting.”

“You mentioned something about Daehyun?” Yubin asked again.

“‘Tis no matter, no importance. Oh! We should tell your brother, Yongguk. Right, yes, he does not understand me,” she repeated herself in Uslili and received a measured response. The two discussed for some time before she came back to Avoshi. “He would like to tell his brother himself, of course. They are set to have dinner tonight. Perhaps his brother would even like to meet with you once he knows you are found.” The end of her statement felt as though it was directed towards Daehyun, although Jiwoo tried to hide it. 

“Jiwoo, dear, won’t you tell me what you were saying before about Daehyunnie?” Yerim asked with doe eyes and her practiced lilt. 

“I cannot,” she replied.

Yejun thought to take a chance with his own lilt, perhaps against Hyunjin, but Daehyun cast the question aside. “‘Tis not important if she says it isn’t. What matters is that we have made a happy reunion with the subject of a fond memory. Would you extend our thanks to him, Jiwoo? He has brought us here in what happens to be a tough time for us, and even our stay may turn out to be brief, it will help us greatly in regaining ourselves. Such a small favor he has repaid a hundredfold.” 

“I would not think your stay shall be short, Daehyun,” replied Jiwoo with a sunshine-y smile. “In fact, I quite imagine you will find a home here in the Capital before the contest is done, if Yongguk is allowed an opinion in the matter.”

“Does he know that we are here as candidates?” asked Daehyun.

“I didn’t tell him,” replied Jiwoo. “Shall I?”

“I would rather you keep it from him,” replied Daehyun. “‘Tis for the best if we can meet him without the reprehension or prejudice that may cause. ‘Tis better if we give him no reasons to think of us as ill company beyond our wrestling toddlers.” He motioned to where Minwoo and Minhyuk had begun wrestling on the ground again, in some dispute over the game they had been playing.

“They’re both fools, how fitting,” Hyunjin whispered to herself. Only Yewon heard, and quickly pulled the young girl of thirteen into one of the farther back rooms of the wing in hopes of more information.

Jiwoo turned to Yongguk again and they spoke at length in Uslili. Yongguk was watching Daehyun all the while that they spoke, and Daehyun pretended to watch Minyoung instead, despite the redness painting his cheeks. Jiwoo spoke again in Avoshi, “he says your thanks are unnecessary, for you saved him in a dire and broken part of his life. He believes he will be forever indebted to you family, and insists you do not argue on the matter. He says he would like nothing more than to help you achieve a stable and happy life, one that he may share with… all of you, if he may. He’s fond of you… all of you, even the senseless toddlers,” she teased.

“Please extend our thanks to him again,” Yubin requested.

Yewon ran out from the room she had hid in, filled with a secretive glee, and pulled Yejun and Yuri back inside with her. Yeeun ran in before they could shut the door. Yongguk spoke again, and Jiwoo translated, “he says your younger siblings are cute. ‘That sort of silliness in youth is something for and of which I’m nostalgic and envious’ is a good approximation. Ah! I never realized how difficult Youngjae and Junhong have it! Interpreting is very much a challenge.”

“But a lovely, intelligent girl such as yourself can certainly handle any challenge,” replied Yerim, which pleased Jiwoo greatly. “It would be lovely to have a conversation with him, if we could, but where to even begin! I suppose, likely with the fright he caused me, I ought to apolo—”

Minyoung, who had been running away gleefully with Yuna from Minwoo and Minhyuk in their own simplified version of the game they had been playing before, had collapsed on the ground with a wailing scream. “Daeh’unnie!” Yuna cried out in distress. “Daeh’unnie! Minnie’s gone bad again. You oughtta sing to her!” She ran over to Daehyun with terror in her eyes while Minwoo and Minhyuk, in confused distress, ran over to hide behind Yubin.

“Oh, dear,” Yubin murmured to herself before speaking a bit louder. “Jiwoo, I’m sorry, you must go. Yerim, why don’t you accompany she and Hyunjin out. Yewon, go with them as well, since the twins must stay here. Oh, where is Yewon? Hyunjin! Hyunjin, I’m sorry, I must ask you to go now.” Daehyun had already swooped up Minyoung from the ground and was shushing her and rocking her as she wailed and fussed around.

“Jiwoo, please, if you could, tell Yongguk our littlest sister is quite ill. We are sorry to cut this reunion with him short but we will have to meet with him another time,” begged Yerim. “Daehyunnie, just go.”

“The back room should be fine,” agreed Yubin, and Daehyun rushed off with the little girl. “Yejun, Yuri, go with your brother! Hurry on!”

Jiwoo had caught herself in the rush to translate for Yongguk, who had taken it upon himself to argue with her. They two were caught up in it for several seconds before words from his lips froze her. “H-He will stay…” She said softly. “I’m sorry, Hyunjin and I will go still.” Yewon came out with Hyunjin in tow, and Yerim grabbed Jiwoo with the intent to leave. 

“He really ought to leave,” Yubin fretted, especially as Yongguk stood and started to follow after Daehyun, a writ of worry across his features.

“He’s heard me before twice now,” replied Yerim. “Whether he does not know or does not care, I do not know, but twice now he hasn’t shown any sign of slight from it. We’ll go now, to make things less cluttered. Come along, Yeeunnie, we’ll all go rest by the koi pond.”

“Hear you doing what?” Jiwoo asked.

“Nothing, just fretting,” replied Yerim. A low note sounded from the other room, and with a reluctant nod from Yubin, Yongguk headed towards it. “Come along, quickly now. Daehyunnie will be embarrassed if you hear his worrying.” She quickly shepherded the lot of them out of the room, leaving Yubin with three toddlers and a cautious Yongguk.

“Minnie’s sick again,” Yuna cried softly. 

“‘Tis alright,” she promised. “Daehyun will sing to her once she stops her fussing.” 

Yongguk had paused to look at her. He almost looked sorry, as if her realized the offense he may have caused by insisting to stay. Yubin returned the look with a kind but worried smile, one that showed her strain as she held all three of the little ones — Yuna, Minhyuk, and Minwoo— in her arms as well as she could. To her luck, all three of them were well practiced in clinging tightly and accommodating each other, but still it was a difficult stretch for her. Yongguk reached his arms out to help, but Yubin nodded him on towards the room. It was a lot of trust to put on him, in that moment, and yet she felt as though it was right. Not in her mind, but in her heart, she heard that he would cause not harm for what he found inside. Perhaps it was that she knew, indeed, that he had heard Yerim sing her Calling Song twicefold, once begging the family chickens to stay close to her while she led them back to the henhouse, and then again, that same very day, when she had been calling on the koi because she wanted to see their colors. If she remembered correctly, they had spoken in their usual way around him five years beforehand, allowing Avoshi and Ippari to mix once they knew he was Usli. Her heart said to trust him with their secret, and so she had nodded him on.

Daehyun was certainly surprised to see him enter the room, where he, Yejun, and Yuri were still pleading with Minyoung to lie still. Yejun had taken off the pair of gloves he had been wearing, and the lights from the lamps inside the room glinted off them as he struggled with Minyoung.

“What do we do?” asked Yejun, looking to Yongguk.

“Yerim said she had been singing the Calling Song when he found her today, that he had had a fleet of guards and servants with him too. If he came without them, then we should not mind him,” replied Daehyun.

“They could arrest and kil—” Yuri started.

“‘Tis no matter right now. All that matters is that I sing, and that the two of you, and Minyounggie, listen. If it’s the end of me, ‘tis a good end, but I do not think he is of that breed. Sit and listen. Sit and listen,” Daehyun urged, until the two of them settled. Yejun pulled Yongguk down to sit as well, and Yongguk allowed himself to be guided, distracted by the rash he could now see clearly on Yejun’s hands. Small scales were poking through patches of skin that were red and irritated, some bloody. He looked up with worry to find Minyoung’s tights were bloodied in small patches as well.

Daehyun cleared his voice, anxious, and looked to Yongguk, only to freeze up. He was terrified, with his heart pounding in his chest, but even if death were to come to him for his following actions, it had to be done. So came the old Ippari song, a long, soft, crying note leading it’s way to them. He began:

_ A letter, a plea _

_ Calling out, hear me _

_ Illness burns, a fire _

_ Puts this precious one on its pyre _

_ Spirits, dearest to me, _

_ Rise like ghosts in the sea _

_ Let my song be medicinal _

_ Let me heal all wounds _

_ Anything payable is fixable _

_ And I’ll surely pay you soon _

He looked up not for a moment, immersed in the tune long before that first pleading chorus ever came. Should he have looked up, he would have found two familiar sights, one of Minyoung slowly falling asleep in his arms, the other of Yejun and Yuri leaning against one another, the sides of their heads pressed together. Yuri tapped on Yejun’s knee to the slow paced song, and sped up to nearly tickle him as the quicker four lines of chorus passed (what which begins with the line “Let my song…”. He would have been met with an unfamiliar sight as well, that of Yongguk sitting cross-legged on the floor in his dusty prim garb, mouth agape, eyes wide, and hand twitching as he resisted the urge to lay it over his roughly beating heart.

_ She cries out, a plea _

_ Don’t take love from me _

_ Spirits, dear Ip-pi _

_ Save my most precious one, take me _

_ The boats of the Arim _

_ Rise like ghosts in the sea _

_ A nightmare, the same _

_ All that’s unfair, untamed _

_ Let my song be medicinal _

_ Let me heal all wounds _

_ Anything payable is fixable _

_ And I’ll surely pay you soon _

Daehyun’s nerves started to catch him as the bridge came, as they always did. His effects never lasted long, even if it was he who sang it the best amongst the eleven of them, and it was his own belief that it was the bridge where he ruined it, for he had no talent in speaking his will into the world and this song required it. He looked down to Minyong, almost sleeping, and the twins, clung together with sad worry for what might come to them, and felt a surge in his heart, a prayer left unanswered, hurt, and alone.

_ For if it’s unfixed my heart shall break _

_ For if left a-lone my heart it’ll take _

_ My heart… _

As the song called for, the two words were nearly spoken, not sung. Without thought or apparent reason, Daehyun looked up to Yongguk as he sang-spoke it.

_ My heart…? _

The question and the following lines were to be entirely spoken, and for once Daehyun did not try to lilt them in the way some of his siblings had learned. In the rare time that Yuna was around when it was being sung, he would have her cover the bridge, for despite being five years old, she was quite talented with spoken passages. Yet this time, with his eyes met by Yongguk’s, with a shared gaze of worry and heartbreak between them, Daehyun felt as though he could make his plea flatly, with no trickery. Perhaps it was not what the song entailed, but the words were right, and the pain was there, shared in the breath and breadth separating them. Terror was shared between them, a mutual fear that could not be held back by a barrier in language.

_ I’ll give my heart, take it from me _

_ Health in return for my heart, please _

_ Still beating, torn from my chest _

_ Take it and save my best _

It came time to sing again, and with a deep breath, Daehyun closed his eyes to sing the last of the pleading song, just as he had so many times in the past. First to his grandmother when he was young, then his parents, and since then to Minyoung near everyday and every night, never with success, but always with hope.

_ I’ll rip my heart out if you do, _

_ Honor your word and I’ll honor mine too _

_ Let my song be medicinal _

_ Let me heal all wounds _

_ Anything payable is fixable _

_ And I’ll surely pay you soon _

_ A letter, a plea _

_ Save what’s precious to me. _

All three of his siblings had fallen asleep with the last notes of the song, the only consistent result he could manage, but Daehyun was not looking to them. He was looking to Yongguk, who looked back at him with all of the pain of the world reflected in his eyes.

Yongguk said something, a soft whisper in a language Daehyun did not understand. He did not need to understand to know it meant “I’m sorry”. It was a moment of silence that drove Daehyun to the edge of his sanity. That rare moment of silence, with his siblings asleep, and a kind stranger across from him. When was the last time he hadn’t needed to be strong for them? When was the last time he hadn’t needed to be the post the kept to house from tumbling in on itself? The rock on which everyone leans?

Sweet tears brewed before he realized them, and Yongguk came to sit next to him, their sides and legs brushing but their hands kept to themselves. For the first time since he was a young boy, when his grandmother passed, Daehyun cried. 

Yongguk did not move, not to escape nor to hold him, and that too Daehyun understood. His words were soft and foreign, unintelligible due to the barrier separating them. Perhaps if Daehyun had understood, he would have realized sooner the predicament they were in. Perhaps if Daehyun could understand, Yongguk would not have made the promises he made. Perhaps luckily, the meaning was hopelessly lost by that pesky barrier.

With none of his fortune and only half of his misfortune known, there was very little comfort in the words Yongguk spoke. Still, Daehyun appreciated the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are super welcome!!!! See the previous chapter for a guide on all the location/people/language names ^^
> 
> (pls dont make fun of my inability to poem TT)


	5. 4. Chess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongup plays chess against himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is back, sorry for the long wait!! I hope you like it!~~ Please leave a comment if you can ^^

He found Jongup exactly where he had expected to find him. His brother always spent the last moments of afternoon basking in the golden sun on the balcony and watching it fade before supper. “I’m predictable, then?” Jongup asked him as he joined him wordlessly by the balcony railing. “How did it go? Are you early to tell me you’ve quit your chance for Ipa already?”

“I have, but that’s not to say your rules will be undone,” replied Yongguk. “I found her singing to the koi in the garden of our second home where I had sought refuge from human contact. Imagine my surprise to find a wood nymph in an old, abandoned family home. ‘Twas like a dream, and I almost swear it would have been had my heart not been plopped back in my empty chest by the siren who stole it. She ran, I followed, and there he was. Did you know, then?”

“I had my suspicions, you know this. Youngjae had said the candidates from Ipa were an identical match and I’ve never known him—”

“Candidates…?” Yongguk breathed. The air was warm but he went cold.

“Had they not told you? In an audience with a prince, they had no qualms in keeping their position here a secret?” He could hear the running ons in Jongup’s head, the figurings of secret plans and mal-intent of which he was surely convincing himself. Perhaps the Avoshi were seeking a stake in the government through carefully planted seeds? But how would they assure Yongguk would fall in love so many years ago?

Yongguk silenced all of the dizzy, false haze surrounding his brother. “I hadn’t told them I was the Prince. I was dressed as a beggar 5 years ago, and I hid my status as well as I could when meeting them again. Himchan’s cousins were there, yet they helped me maintain my secret as well as I would expect from his kin. I believe they had said you were quite fortunate and well-to-do, my brother, and I was simply a hanger-on recovering from a streak of bad luck.”

“‘Tis not entirely falsehoods,” replied Jongup. “What then, is he all that you remember?”

“All and more. The sweetest of songs, the kindest of hearts. I would doubt such nothing loves-at-first-sight if it were not for how he is so upright and agreeable, so moral and compassionate, that it’s as if soul mates were more than fairy tales.”

Jongup snorted in the least kingly manner possible. “Sometimes I truly think you’ve lost it. Then again, you’ve always had a love of poetic garblings, like Mom.”

“Nonsense, I’m not even dust compared to her. Still, candidates… Suddenly your contest holds sense and fate has turned so lovingly in my favor. I can just reveal my identity to them and have him know that I shall… You will make me wait to marry, won’t you? With your needless and incessant caution, you will have me wait to see if it is a viable match no matter how far I’ve already fallen.”

“I’m predictable, then,” Jongup repeated calmly.

“Worse than you… comes the matter… if I were to tell him my identity, to reveal myself to be the prince whose hand he seeks… If I were to do so now, before he had a chance to truly know me and fall for me as I have for him, then it will all be for nothing. I will never know if he is with me because he truly cares for me, or if he is with me simply because of the situation at hand. Will it be equal love or hopelessly one-sided?” Yongguk’s voice went soft.

“Indeed, that was my worry. He will not love you if he knows you are the prince now. You will remain a means to an end, rather than the love and partner you wish to be. If you wish to have him just to hold him...”

“No,” Yongguk’s voice was firm and direct as he responded, “no, that wouldn’t be acceptable at all. I could not survive if it were just me, if I were to feel as I do for him and he were to feel nothing. To have him use me without loving me… I couldn’t bear it. I’ve gotten in too deep, what shall I do?” He groaned, burying his head in his hands as he bent over the railing.

Jongup patted his back, but did not look at him, “I suppose this is the moment in which I corrupt your morality, as always. Continue the lie. In fact, we shall strengthen it. Every noble, servant, and soldier will know to pretend you are not the prince. We will claim it is a matter of the contest and we will claim to your suitors that the Prince is too ill to visit them. Rather Youngjae, Himchan, Junhong, and anyone else we might use shall go to conduct interviews and tests on all suitors. We will make it seem as though they are sorting out the candidates because the Prince is too ill to do so himself. In the meantime, you will accompany them until you’ve met each candidate and can assure me this man is the only one for you, all while hiding who you are.”

“We shall instate a castle-wide conspiracy? To what gain, Jongup? You would not suggest such a thing without a larger scheme in mind than forcing me yet to meet all of them.”

“He must fall in love with you, if you want my blessing,” replied Jongup. “He must fall so madly in love with you that he quits the contest in hopes of pursuing you. His sister is in the contest as well and I’ve heard she is the loveliest of the bunch so I am not asking for complete insanity here — I’m not asking him to starve his family for you — just enough madness to prove his dedication to you. You must not ask him for his hand. You may tell him you are without adequate suitors and you may tell him you wish to marry, but nothing more. Do not tell him your feelings for him. If he falls in love with you, I shall let you have him. He must confess it openly to you, and quit the contest for you without your request. That is the scheme I have in mind.”

“And until he loves me so earnestly as to give up his stake in fortune with the sole allowance that his sister may still win it, I shall have to pretend I am not the Prince, and you that we are not related?” Yongguk straightened to face him.

“Nonsense, we shan’t let suitors know who I am as well. It has yet to be that any have seen me. I never go to the castle in which we’ve stashed them and they have been forbidden to leave it’s walls. It shall be that here I am King and there, I am but a member of the Court. Again, we shall say it is for the purposes of the contest. We shall say I am acting as a rogue to evaluate the candidates on my own. I shall meet those from Ipa before I allow you him as well. I must assure the whole family is of the right sort to tie to our names.”

“There are two three-year-olds that wrestle and scream with no cares for royalty nor respect. Will that ruin them for you?” Yongguk asked in jest.

“Most definitely. I have no tolerance for children acting as children. Why, if they were not to bow to me in proper Court fashion I would lose my mind.” Jongup’s humor was equally flat. Both chuckled quietly to themselves. “I would quite like to meet them soon, Yongguk.”

“If I could ask you to give me time to grow his affection for me…” Yongguk replied.

“I shall allow it,” agreed Jongup. “What makes him so special as to change you so quickly, Yongguk? This morning you were content to pretend you were dead, yet now you are so fully alive in front of me that it is as if the past five years had never happened.”

“I do not know, nor do I think I ever will. Perhaps it’s his voice. I heard him sing before I saw him, and it drew me to him so intensely that I could not help but long for him ever since. When I was without him, the world was only grey. Now…” he gestured to the setting sun and the violets and pinks it had painted the sky, “my world has been painted colorful. He captured me with a song which has become the rhythm of my beating heart. It’s as if the sun only shines, the birds only sing, and my heart only beats when he is there in front of me. The feeling is so unlike me that I dare say I’ve gone mad myself, and yet it is euphoric.”

“Have you heard Junhong’s fairytale of the people from Ipa?” Jongup asked.

“His silly story of sirens and their barbaric children?” Yongguk asked in return. “I’ve heard it so many times that I know he changes it with each retelling to make it grander. ‘Twas one of the reasons I continued to call Daehyun my ‘Siren’ rather than any other pet name, for it frustrates Junhong endlessly when I do but he daren’t warn me off it.”

“I was just thinking that the way you describe him matches the sirens of Junhong’s story well enough.”

“You wouldn’t be such a fool to believe it, would you? A tale for children believed by a king?” Yongguk teased. “It wouldn’t be the first time you were easily misguided. You believed Uncle’s story of how our ancestors came from the moon with a divine right to rule this land until Himchan told you of its illogical nature.”

“And yet the common folk still believe it to be true,” replied Jongup. “No, I am not the same fool I was when I was five, barely. The description was just similar.”

Supper came and went together, after which Yongguk had returned to his room, still exhausted even if his condition was bettering. Jongup, however, made only a guised gesture at returning for bed, then quickly had himself changed into slightly lesser attire than that of the King and went to the far castle in secret.

The orders about the royal brothers had quickly made its way through both castles. It was not unusual for Jongup to suddenly scheme in such a way and the staff and noblemen who lived in the castle were all accustomed to very sudden shifts in ‘the truth’ or strange orders about how to  behave. He was fortunate that he was both well-respected and truly feared by everyone in the Capital, it made matters much easier.

His guards remained with him even then, but most noblemen had guards and an Avoshi commoner would not know enough of the Usli armor nor the Usli way of life to know the specific details of his guards meant that he could be no one other than a member of the royal family.

He found his way through the halls of the once abandoned castle. The night was still young, and only those like Yongguk, who were content to spend all of their time in bed, alone, would be asleep yet. He would wager even the toddlers would still be awake and playing, and so he saw no harm in seeking out the room of the candidates of Ipa and knocking on their door. He ordered his guards stay outside before it was opened by a young woman, a crowd of curious girls behind her.

“Hello, I’m so sorry to intrude so late in the evening. My name is Jongup, I believe you know my brother, Yongguk. May I come in?” He asked. It had seemed like his duty to learn to speak Avoshi when he took the crown, as they were his subjects as much as the Usli were. In the following five years he had grown quite a talent for it, though he rarely spoke it because he was anxious of his accent. Rather he would listen to Avoshi, respond in Uslili, and have Youngjae or Junhong translate it into Avoshi for him. As he was functionally on his own, he supposed he would simply have to speak it himself.

“Oh!” The young woman seemed quite surprised. “Um…”

He wondered if he was truly intruding or acting in a disagreeable manner, because she was simply staring at him, dumbstruck and mouth agape.

“Binnie, you lose all your charm when you stand there with your mouth gaping,” said a younger girl behind her. “Excuse my sister, Sir, she can be a bit slow. Please, come in.”

“Yerim, be nice,” a man’s voice warned from further back in the room.

“I think she’s lovely regardless of expression,” Jongup agreed. “If you’ll excuse me,” he stepped passed her and into the room. ‘Binnie’ did not close the door but rather stared blankly at the space he had once occupied until Yerim shut the door and spun her around. Her face was very red.

Inside the room, he was greeted by a young man, handsome though not as lovely as Jongup thought his sister to be. He certainly understood Yongguk’s point of view on the matter. “It’s nice to meet you all,” Jongup said kindly. “I had just found out Yongguk had met with you today, and since he has confirmed who you are, I came wishing to express my gratitude to you all. You had saved his life, five years ago, had you not?”

“It really wasn’t much,” the young man replied kindly from his spot on the floor with the other boys— a preteen and two toddlers by the looks of it, “he was lost, we simply brought him back to your encampment.”

“You housed and fed him for the night as well, if memory serves me right,” Jongup replied. “For all of those kindnesses, we owe you a great debt. There are not words to express our gratitude— my gratitude for your kindness. We are the only family we have, should I have lost him… well, it’s not a thought I am willing to dwell on. We are greatly indebted to you.”

The young man stood and offered his hand, shaking Jongup’s in the Court fashion. He wasn’t polished on the details, as if he had never been instructed but rather learned through observation.  The preteen boy bid his sisters to go back to their activities before, and then shook Jongup’s hand in a much clumsier manner, saying, “It’s nice to make your acquaintance as well, Sir. We’re happy to have helped you brother, but please do not feel indebted to us. We simply did as one does when one sees another in a difficult situation.” His older brother beamed with pride, whispering a soft praise to the boy for being so well-spoken.

The toddlers had stopped playing briefly to watch the intruder into their room, but were distracted with play again when three of the girls, from a similar age to the toddlers through to a preteen girl, came to play with them. A teenage girl had emerged from one of the back rooms, a baby in her arms that was fast asleep. The two oldest sisters had settled down with her as the boy had told them too, watching the flock of children play and whispering to one another. ‘Binnie’s cheeks were still red, and at times she would shoot quick and nervous glances in Jongup’s direction. The young man seemed entirely confused by her behavior.

“I’ve come to learn you are in a difficult situation yourself, if you don’t mind my boldness,” Jongup replied, looking to both of them. “I’m sorry to hear of your loss. I can’t begin to imagine the struggle of managing a family this large in your class.” His words lacked tact, and so he regretted them, but no one seemed offended.

“We’ve managed thus far,” replied the young man, somewhat uncertain.

“Still,” said Jongup, “I’d like to see to it, as a gift to express my gratitude to you all for helping Yongguk, that we find some means of ameliorating the situation at hand. I apologize for my boldness, again, in the matter but it will be late presently and I don’t wish to overstay my welcome when the young ones are likely to sleep soon. I would’ve come tomorrow or the next day, but I imagine Yongguk will be here throughout. I imagine he’d be uncomfortable to know of my plans for the matter, so it’s best managed now, while he is taken by other business.”

“What are you plans for the matter?” The boy asked before his brother could object.

“I understand you’re here because the oldest pair of you are suitors of the Prince within that silly contest at hand. That would be you,” he gestured to the young man, “and,” he was gestured back to ‘Binnie’, who shyly raised her hand. “Oh, Miss… what was it? Miss Binnie? Oh well then… I suppose your luck will turn in the near future. She will most likely win, if I know the King’s tastes well, which I do. He’s a strange fellow, it’s more than unlikely he’ll let the Prince pick for himself unless there are extraordinary circumstances at hand.” Jongup had a wide smile across his face. The situation delighted him.

“Her name is Yubin,” replied the young man. “‘Binnie’ is just a pet name. I suppose we forgot to introduce ourselves, although there are 11 of us, so there’s no harm in forgetting our names.” He ran through the list of names, reasserting Yubin in the process and ending by calling himself Daehyun and the boy with him Yejun. “You believe she’ll win?”

“Without a doubt,” said Jongup. “I imagine if the King were even a little less sane, he would already be plotting a means to win her heart himself. Any sensible person would be struck by her.” Both Daehyun and Yejun seemed uncomfortable with Jongup’s words, but Yewon and Yerim were giggling hysterically with delight. “Regardless, I do have a question for you, Daehyun. Excluding the Prince as I understand there are many factors that would go into your decision to enter the contest that may diminish this factor, what is your opinion on marrying a man? I understand some Avoshi struggle with strange prejudices.”

“I’m not of that sort. I would marry a man as soon as a woman as soon as anyone I loved at all.”

Jongup’s smile returned, once again delighted. “You are Usli at heart then. Gender is irrelevant to love, is it not? I suppose we can find a favorable path in this situation then. I shan’t make a formal offer, ‘tis only fair to leave that to Yongguk. In all technicality, I am made to be in charge of his affairs until the Prince betters from his illness and Yongguk may go back to work, however… My own favorable opinion towards such direction does not necessarily reflect his, nor your own, of course. I am only supposing… a strengthened bond between our houses now that fate has brought us together twicefold. That is to say, if you could find the situation favorable, and find yourself to be growing to love him, then it would make my attempts to help you successful in an instant. If not, I will simply find another way, of course, this is not to say you ought to, just that if you were to find yourself in a situation where you were— were to want to pursue him, that is — that I would very happily give my blessing in that arrangement.”

Daehyun’s face had gone red and his mouth was agape, while Yejun had looked back to his older sisters for help. Yerim was the one to call out, as Yubin was much in a similar state, “if you’ll excuse my boldness, are you suggesting such a thing because our dear Wanderer has such strongly affectionate feelings toward our Daehyunnie already?”

“Is he that obvious?” Jongup asked her.

“You ought to see the pair of them!” Yerim exclaimed. “Even five years ago, they were playing some coy game in which they both wished to stare at one another but dreaded meeting eyes. When they met again today it was as if they might lose all sense and embrace like long lost lovers—”

“Don’t lie, Yerim,” Daehyun demanded quickly.

Jongup and Yerim shared an amused look, and shared a small, pleased laugh that only further annoyed Daehyun. 

“I believe they might have kissed should either of them had any boldness when they met,” said Yerim with delight. “You see the redness and dumbness of our Daehyunnie’s expression? That is the permanent expression of the pair when put together. Even five years ago, it was true!” She was a gossiping teen, of course, content to annoy her older siblings, and Jongup found it delightful.

“I can very well imagine the slowness of Yongguk’s expression under such duress,” agreed Jongup readily. “If it is as you say, it would be a joy to watch them interact.”

“They don’t so much interact as they do stare at one another longingly until they are caught, and then feign business with something else,” said Yewon, who was listening intently as she rocked Minyoung. “It’s much the way our Binnie has been staring longingly at you whenever you look at our brothers for too long.” She was smacked over the head by Yubin for her statement, but giggled happily along with the gossiping pair.

“Our brothers are a possibility, then,” said Jongup with smug delight to Yerim and Yewon. He was careful to skirt around the statement about Yubin, but spared her a longing look of his own when she shyly turned away from him. He turned back to Daehyun and said, “it is not the only way of course, nor should you feel by any means obligated. I simply wish to say that he, while he won’t admit it, seems to be very well fond of you, and it would indeed be a quick fix as we have our luck about us. Some might say we are the luckiest pair in Usli, Yongguk and I. Still, if you are hesitant, I understand. You do not know him well, and worse yet, you would have to quit the contest to be available to him. Decide based on your own feelings over the coming weeks, if you please, and act accordingly. Money will no longer be a matter to you soon, regardless, as I am certain lovely Miss Yubin will win the King’s heart, and I shall manage your monetary matters even if some nefarious plan steals her from his gaze, as another sign of my gratitude.”

“We could not possibly ask you to—” Daehyun started.

“You are not asking, and I am not offering. It is a simple means of matter, a non-negotiable truth of our present. Do not make your decision too quickly, please. I beg you to consider with time and choose only if you are sure you can love him,” Jongup interrupted. “I imagine he will be here every day you let him be, if nothing else then because he is quite fond of children.”

“Does he have no work to do?” The young Yuri, Yejun’s twin, asked from the floor.

“Until the Prince is better, he does not. You see, the Prince is quite ill currently, and infliction of the heart that’s haunted him since the late King’s passing. No other can catch it, but it seems no one can cure it, equally. My brother is meant to be in his service as I am in the King’s, yet so long as the Prince is too ill to leave his room, too ill to focus on the work he is meant to do, and too ill to manage any of his affairs, Yongguk will be free to do as he pleases. Our own father has passed, and as Yongguk is a very similar sort to the Prince, the King has granted him equal leisure to ascertain his wellness.”

“You suppose the Prince and Yongguk are alike?” Daehyun seemed to have a hint of distaste in his tone.

“They are both good men— moral, intelligent, and studious. Both think grandly of the world and its betterment, consider philosophy as a guiding principle, and approach the world with an unprecedented open-hearted kindness. They are… a rare sort in this world, especially in positions of power. More often, you’ll find those like the King, those who find joy in scheming and trickery, who go through extraordinary and ridiculously roundabout means of achieving even simple goals, and who would quicker trust a hungry wolf than another human being. Even when it is easy to suppose what they want, it is impossible to figure how they will get it.”

“What would you suppose the King’s goals are?” Daehyun asked.

“I would suppose his goal at the moment is similar to my own — ascertaining the happiness of his beloved older brother. Despite what you may think from the rumors that surround this place, the King holds his brother above everyone else, in the highest of esteems, regularly has care for no opinions but that of his brother, and truly hopes to find a cure for his illness more than anything else in the world.” Jongup seemed far off, yet so certain on the matter that it was impossible to question him.

“Would you suppose you’re like the King, then? Or are you more similar to the Prince in all else?” was Daehyun’s next question.

“I suppose I, like everyone, am like no one but myself. Perhaps I am not the same every day, nor in every situation. I will admit to some similarities between I and the King, in the esteem in which we hold our older brothers as well as small things, like a joy in playing chess against oneself,” Jongup replied, almost in jest.

“You should teach Yubin to play,” suggested Yerim. “She’s well-suited for games of that sort, you’d likely find a perfect partner in her, and it’d likely be more enjoyable than playing with yourself.”

“If Miss Yubin is ever so inclined to join me, I’d be delighted.” Jongup agreed readily, before Yubin could object to her sisters boldness. “Would you please, Miss Yubin? Perhaps I could teach you some of the game myself, and some Uslili as we play.”

“I would like that very much,” Yubin squeaked out. “But the children…”

“I can manage them,” replied Daehyun. “Especially if it happens that Yongguk visits, or Yerim, Yewon, and the twins can bear staying in on the odd afternoon. Don’t worry about such easily handled matters. She’ll join you, happily, Jongup.”

“I suppose I will,” Yubin agreed, a delighted smile on her lips quickly leaving Jongup dumbstruck as she had been beforehand.

“I… I can arrange… Governesses…” Jongup’s Avoshi was suddenly failing him, as if he had forgotten the language entirely, “for the children and you… study Uslili… if it would be…”

“I wanna learn Uslili!” Yeeun cried from the floor with excitement, the hoard of toddlers behind her quickly agreeing for the sake of agreeing to whatever their older sister had said. “Daehyunnie, can we? I want to learn Uslili and Aiyuni and Wayeda and—” her list of languages grew and grew.

“Can… arrange…” Jongup agreed, still staring blankly at Yubin.

“He’s looking at her the way Yongguk looks at Daehyun,” whispered Yewon to Yerim. “Are we to have a double wedding?” The two girls tittered and giggled between them, amused by the situation in the way all teenagers are by people strangely in love.

He bid them adieu quickly, promising an aide would be in contact in the next day or two in order to arrange the matters more exactly. He found himself not quite leaving so much as leaning up against their door and running his hands over his face for a couple moments to compose himself.

“Your Maj— Sir?” One of his guards asked in Uslili. 

“I’m fine,” assured Jongup. “Let’s go then, I won’t be able to continue this chess game ‘til morning. Perhaps I’ll dream of a siren of my own.” His words were mumbled and soft, and he wandered back toward his quarters in his home castle as he talked, the guards following after.


	6. 5. The Worst Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comments greatly appreciated!!^^

Life in the Capital moved quickly once their day was more scheduled. Yongguk would usually visit in the morning with a couple new Avoshi phrases in his lexicon, and then he’d leave in the afternoon to study, right when the few Governesses Jongup had hired showed up to help them study Uslili. The youngest four were a bit too young to learn properly, so instead Jiwoo would come to play with them in Uslili, which they were very slowly picking up in a more native way than their siblings. Yeeun, at nine-years-old, was unfortunately grouped with both the twins at 12 and Yewon at fourteen-years-old, but the Governess managing the lot of them was very good at staggering content to help her keep up.

That left Daehyun and Yerim, and Yubin at times. More often than not, she was off playing chess with Jongup in the garden. The Capital seemed eternally blessed by sunshine and so for a full month their game went uninterrupted. “Oh what a lovely game,” at the one month mark, such a statement was so ordinary from Yubin when returning in the evening that it barely warranted a response.

“Who won?” Daehyun asked, as he always did. He was sitting on the floor with Yejun’s hands in his, examining the worsening, scaly rash that now covered his entire arms. “This isn’t good. You might soon turn into a fish,” it was barely a joke. Neither could bring themselves to laugh.

“A stalemate, as always,” replied Yubin. “I fear his mind and mine are simply too similar for any other result.”

“Have either of you gotten the courage to actually speak yet?” Yerim’s question was a bit more curt. Yubin blushed deeply, pulling out giggles from her two nearest sisters. “So you haven’t then? Just a month of blushing, shy looks and chess? You’re both absolutely dull, you know that? If he doesn’t propose soon I’m going to start questioning what bearing my dreams actually have on the future?”

“Oh, did you dream it?” Yubin asked with hope.

“Three times now, you at the altar with Jongup in golden dress, beside you Yongguk and Daehyun at their own in silver.”  _ Jiwoo and I yet in bronze though no altar yet _ , was a phrase Yerim happily left off from her description.

Yubin did not have a chance to respond before little Miss Minyoung started screaming up a storm. Yubin rushed to shush her, only to stop with a sudden fear. “Oh dear. Daehyunnie, Yeri, Wonnie, come here. Look, look. I think that’s a scale poking out on her cheek.” There was a small section of red skin with a small amount of blood, as if the little girl had scratched her cheek too roughly, but under the dried blood was the glint of a thin, silver line.

“No,” the word came in Ippari because Daehyun was not thinking. They all switched when he did. “No, dear Minyounggie, no. I thought we were keeping it at bay. Why won’t the song work? First Yuri’s entire back, then all of Yejunnie’s arms, now our little Minyounggie is near covered.”

“‘Tis but a month off,” whispered Yubin with fear. “What stole father from us will steal our Minyounggie too.”

“Daehyun,” Yejun called out.

“Not now,” replied Daehyun, “should I sing to her again? It hasn’t worked yet. It feels as though it’s every day now but the effect no longer holds.”

“Perhaps we ought to sing it together?” Yubin asked. “I don’t have the talent you do, but—”

“I really think you ought to speak Avo—” started Yejun.

“Can you just wait a minu— oh.” Daehyun looked over to his brother only to discover exactly why he had been so urgent.

Youngjae was standing in the doorway. He visited occasionally in the evening when there was a message from Yongguk, Jongup, or the King. His mouth was drawn into a thin line as he stared at them. The problem, of course, was that Youngjae was Avoshi. Yongguk was Usli, so he couldn’t tell Avoshi and Ippari apart. Youngjae, however, would know exactly what they were.

“Is this the end of us then?” Daehyun asked softly.

“The song doesn’t work if you don’t hold up your end of the bargain,” replied Youngjae calmly in Avoshi. “Gran’ma always told me I ought to never sing it unless I was willing to tear my life to shreds just for its effects.” 

“Are you…?” The question wasn’t dared all the way, though it was said in Ippari so it’s meaning was understood.

“A quarter. Gran’pa thought it best to try and use the lilt to his advantage as a merchant, took Gran’ma in as a servant during the raids for her strength in it, and then they managed to fall in love. I understand you just fine, by the way, but you’ll have to excuse my inability to reply. I can’t even get most of the songs right,” replied Youngjae in Avoshi again. “How’s that then? If I try to ruin you, you can ruin me in return.”

“And what of the song then?” Yerim asked, ever pragmatic, despite her siblings continuous fretting.

“Perhaps I’m mistranslating, but I believe you must promise the Ip’pi that you will give your heart, must you not? Of course it isn’t literal, though it is required. ‘Twas what Gran’ma said ‘bout it. It was on her no-sing list, along with  _ Amarim _ and the  _ Siren’s Song _ .” Youngjae looked quite uncomfortable.

“I thought those were just the lyrics,” Yubin said softly.

“As did I,” agreed Daehyun. “I suppose then, it makes sense why it hasn’t worked. I would have to tear my heart out… But how?”

“Daehyun, you can’t be serious—” Yerim started.

“I would die for the lot of you, make no mistakes.” Daehyun silenced her quickly. “Simply ruining myself is barely anything to ask of me at all. I’ll just have to figure out how, what would be sufficient… And quickly. ‘Tis not long before Minyounggie is not just scaled but much worse off…”

“Was there something you came here for, Sir?” Yejun asked Youngjae as his siblings had gone back into their own minds.

“‘Twill rain tonight, and Jongup worries ‘twill not let up until the late evening of tomorrow. The garden will be unusable for Miss Yubin’s chess game. He asks that Miss Yubin come to the main castle to join him for chess and tea tomorrow afternoon, if it pleases her. He apologizes for not thinking of it during your game this afternoon, upon arriving back at his station he was informed of the impending weather and the damage it might do to routine.”

“I thought we weren’t allowed out of this castle,” replied Yejun. “He must remember she and my brother are here as candidates, which constrains us all to this castle alone.”

“Special permission from the King has been granted,” replied Youngjae. “He has heard of Yubin’s loveliness in both appearance and demeanor and might even be deciding on joining the pair for tea in an informal manner. If she is well-liked by him, and there is little doubt that she shall be, then all of you may be asked to the main castle for a supper with Yongguk and Jongup together. The King has already agreed to such a deal, you’ll find him rather easily swayed by Jongup’s personal wishes, in which case he and his brother will likely grace you with an appearance.”

“Might I ask if any of the other candidates are being shown such favor?” Yerim asked.

“They are not, but if I am being honest, I don’t think either of you are considered suitors of the Prince any longer. Rather, you both have your own suitor, both of whom are well-to-do and of significant influence. As I said before, the King is very, very easily swayed by Jongup’s will. If there were to be a chess game between the two, Jongup would win within moments,” Youngjae had a smile about him that made the whole proposition much brighter.

“So they truly will propose then?” Yejun clarified.

“Arrangements may be made after your dinner, if the King approves it. However, the both of you must decide to drop out of the contest before then for it to be a possibility at all. Jongup, I believe, would much prefer Yubin stay in the contest, if you are too anxious to both leave immediately. Miss Yubin may even stay until the end of the contest, so long as he understands his affections are returned. With Daehyun, however, for your wanderer’s hand you must say goodbye to your chance at a crown,” said Youngjae.

“Well that’s well and easy,” grumbled Daehyun. “Is it all set then?”

“He will send for Miss Yubin tomorrow if the sky does not clear. The rest is simply conjecture. We shall see from here out. Take your time in thinking of your place. Is Yongguk truly worth the uncertainty? Are your affection for him so deeply run that you might lose all to pursue him? I suppose that is a question you must ask yourself many times over, who is held so highly in your eyes as to lose all? Do… Do take care, then. I’m sorry, for your siblings. I shall send for the doctor to visit again in haste, and I would expect Yongguk would be along at the same time if he were to hear word of it.”

“If you please,” agreed Daehyun. With Youngjae gone and the door shut, the family as a whole deflated. “We are lucky then, more lucky than we could’ve hoped. If any other Avoshi were to hear us…”

“Daehyunnie,” Yubin breathed, “what shall we do?”

“You shall continue as you are, all of you. I suppose I… I shall give the doctor time as he needs it, but if he still comes with no cure by the end of our dinner in two weeks… I shall have to give my heart… Now, if only I knew where I left it.” Again, no one quite laughed at his joke, as much as he tried to lighten the mood.

“Will you drop from the contest for Yongguk?” Yerim asked. “Is it not too risky? The two of you barely speak, barely share glances, and barely touch. You, my brother who cannot bare two moments without touching the person by your side, have not reached for him once, and he not for you? ‘Tis not as though this a manner of the Court nor Status, as your interactions with Jongup, Himchan, and Youngjae grow both parties have grown overtly affectionate. Even with Youngjae’s wretched  _ Amim _ , you—”

“You ought not to,” said Yubin softly.

“Ought not to what? Question whether such an idea is safe?” Yerim replied. “Are we not in enough peril as is, Binnie? To be here is danger. To have our secret spilled, to have our siblings sick, to have constant exposure to an  _ Amim _ —”

“You ought not to call Junhong ‘ _ Amim _ ’,” replied Yubin. “He is not the sort.”

“And yet ‘ _ Amarim _ ’ leaves a dirty taste in my mouth,” Yerim spat.

“And so you will call him by his name and nothing else,” ordered Daehyun with a finality that harkened back to their father’s few angry moments. “If the Yoo boy is Ipparim and he lays in the same bed with history in his mind, then we can trust Junhong honestly and treat him fairly. Now I am sure that I am not sure of where my mind and heart are at, and I am not sure of where I stand on any matter at all. Ask me, even, if I am hungry and I will have no answer for you. Yongguk… is a good man. He’s kind, caring, intelligent, moral, handsome…” Daehyun trailed off for a moment. “But my mind is everywhere and nowhere all at once and I… I must take my time to think as I have so often been advised. Binnie, please, I’m sorry, but watch them and speak with the doctor for me. I’m going to take a walk before the rain begins.”

He left in a haste to keep any from holding him back, though Minhyuk did quite literally cling to his brother’s leg until Daehyun sighed and chose to carry him off with him. The two little three-year-old twins excitedly shouted goodbye at one on another until the door was closed, but luckily it was the quieter of the two that had made his mind up to come with Daehyun.

“What do you think, Hyukkie?” Daehyun asked him softly as they walked, his tone a little lighter, though like all young children, Minhyuk was hyperaware that Daehyun was distressed.

“If Minnie and Junnie and YuYu all turn in to fish we can put them in the koi pond!” Minhyuk suggested, and Daehyun just barely managed a smile. Minhyuk squished his face until it was bigger. “What if you give your heart to Wanderererer and then take his heart and then you both still got one it’s just,” MInhyuk made a gesture with his fingers to show it was switched.

“Both of those are excellent ideas,” Daehyun agreed, for the sake of humoring the little boy. “What else do you think?”

“Why do you and Wand-eee look at each other a lot,” asked the little boy.

“Well, I look at him because I think he’s quite handsome,” said Daehyun.

“Does he look at you ‘cause he thinks you’re hands ummmm?” Minhyuk asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you and D’and-a ever talk?” He was getting farther and farther away from the correct pronunciation, but Daehyun thought it too cute to correct. Besides, he knew well-enough Minhyuk would just insist he was right and Daehyun was wrong.

“Well, the Wan-der-er,” he said it very slowly, “and I don’t speak the same language. He only knows Usli, and I don’t know much of that. Even though we’re both learning now, it’s very difficult for us to understand one another. It’s like when you and Minnie and Minnie speak the Minnie-only language. Then, I can’t understand you.”

“But he knows ‘hello’! And he always asks us, ‘how are you’! Why don’t you answer?”

“Well, it’s difficult.”

“Why?”

“Because it is.”

“Why?”

“Because it is.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s too difficult!”

“Why?”

“Because he’s invariably handsome, kind, agreeable, pleasant, moral, intelligent, quick, bright, soft-spoken, well-thought, thoughtful, careful, and a million other things that make it very, very, very difficult for me to speak with him in even basic greetings.”

Minhyuk stared at him for a second. They had stopped in from of one of the large windows overlooking the gardens and the little boy looked out it for a moment. The matter of course is, however, that three-year-olds are some of the most frustrating and hard-headed creatures on the planet, holding more will than the strongest generals and more curiosity than the brightest scientists. Regardless of how much you pray and hope you’ve satisfied them with an answer, it will always come again, the endless terrible, unbearable cycle: “why?”

“Because I like him very much more than I’ve liked anyone ever before,” said Daehyun.

“More than me?” Minhyuk asked.

“I don’t think it’s the same ‘like’, Hyukkie. I like you because you’re my precious little brother, whom I want to help grow and teach about the world. I like him because he calls to my like a Siren when I am lonely, he is the moon that lights my world on the darkest night.”

“I don’t get it,” said Minhyuk.

“I like you in the little-brother way, just like I like Minwoo and Yejunnie. I like the Wanderer in the kiss-y way, like Junhong likes Youngjae or Binnie likes Jongup.”

“Or Jiwoo likes Yerim?” Minhyuk asked. Three-year-olds are terribly, horribly observant little things.

“What? Yes, sure, the same.”

“Do you love him?” Minhyuk asked.

“It’s still early for love, but I believe I might soon,” replied Daehyun, and, in the truly most awful, most horrendous moment up to that point of the otherwise horrendous night, Daehyun realized that he had long since made his mind up to drop out of the contest for Yongguk, since the idea had first been floated he had always just assumed it would happen. Even in such an uncertain future, Daehyun made his mind up to do it officially as soon as possible. He would send a message with Yubin the next day then, formally removing himself in pursuit of another’s hand.

“Why don’t you tell him you like him?” Minhyuk’s interrogation was entirely unwelcome.

“Because it’s not that easy, Hyukkie.”

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because I fear one wrong word from me, one wrong touch or movement and he might think the worst of me and never wish to see me again! To think he is so upright and lovely in every way, how could I ever compare? ‘Tis not just class that separates us, ‘tis upbringing, ‘tis education, ‘tis etiquette, ‘tis character! I am wholly and entirely unworthy of his affections and I cannot simply tell him that I feel strongly for him just as I cannot simply greet him because only one wrong word will be enough to ruin me in his eyes!”

“That’s dumb,” said Minhyuk.

“I suppose it is,” agreed Daehyun with a sigh.

“Am I gonna turn into a fish too?” Minhyuk asked. 

Daehyun didn’t have the heart to correct him on the results of the disease. “I hope not, Hyukkie. I like you best when you’ve got all you fingers and toes and skin instead of scales. If you all stay people first that’d be better.”

“I wanna turn into an Ip’pi,” said Minhyuk, and Daehyun wept suddenly.

It was not more than five minutes later, as Daehyun wept and Minhyuk hugged him tightly around the neck and tried to sing the lullabies in a childish, imprecise tone, that Yongguk came down the hall, calling out Daehyun’s name when he saw them and running to them urgently to sweep them up in his warm embrace for the first time.

Daehyun all at once froze and melted into it, let Yongguk take some of Minhyuk’s weight while clinging to him, went to heaven while sobbing as bitterly as hell. Yongguk had a hand in his hair, the way he often did when praising the young children, and used it to hold Daehyun’s head to his shoulder and whisper words in his ear that Daehyun could not understand.

“I think Daehyunnie loves you,” said Minhyuk seriously. Three-year-olds are treacherous little things with no sense of loyalty nor betrayal. Unfortunately, Yongguk understood.

“I like Daehyunnie much, too,” replied Yongguk in a careful and practiced fashion, nearly managing to say what he wished in Avoshi perfectly, though he wondered if he had said it dreadfully wrong when Daehyun only wept harder. However, it wasn’t a mistake that made him cry more, but rather a realization of the only solution to the matter. He had entered into the truly most awful, most horrendous moment of the otherwise horrendous night, the worst of all his sufferings and all his pain.

He would have to sing  _ Amarim _ to Yongguk to save them.


	7. 6. The Siren's Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Tis not love but rather a curse hidden in the tune of the Siren's Song. What should happen when someone finally begins to realize what had happened all those years ago?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism encouraged!!!^^

“Oh, but to hold him, Jongup! ‘Twas the worst of times, I know, yet to have him in my arms was so wondrous that I scarce had a thought other than how pleasant it would be — how agreeable indeed— should I be able to hold him in my arm for every moment of my life to come! To think a simple embrace would render me so… am I yet a fool?” Yongguk’s voice was more wondrous and awe-ful than ever before, to the point that Jongup might think him sick with some delirious disease had the doctor not declared him cured of his illness.

“You’ve been a fool since the day you first saw him,” replied Jongup. He was nervously adjusting his clothes and hair in the mirror. “I fear it’s contagious as I feel I’ve begun to catch it myself.”

“Did Youngjae come to tell you yet? He’s dropped from the contest officially since my return yesterday evening. Youngjae had still been in their quarters with the doctor he had brought them when my love returned, and he announced immediately he would remove himself from the contest in pursuit of me. Tell me, then, what prevents my confession but you, brother? My most wonderful, loving siren, whose beauty is like no other—”

“I truly believe you’ve lost your mind,” interrupted Jongup, “never in my life have I heard you speak so much of another, and while you’ve always had a taste for purple prose, now you are so flowery, ‘tis like you’re a florist. At least think of him sensibly.”

“And yet I cannot. What has he done to me to pull the sense from my head? It must’ve been his fishing hook, when I first met him he sung it into my ear and pulled out my mind and heart with it, I have been mad ever since,” joked Yongguk. He was too pleased, and Jongup in his nervous state was irritable.

“Might you stop acting like a madman? A moment of peace and advice is too much to ask for, I suppose. While I choke on my own confession, you ramble like a drunkard!” He snapped.

Yongguk seemed to snap out of his strange state, almost as if it indeed had been induced. “You do look well, Jongup. She shall know from the look of you that you are a noble and well-respected sort. In your appearance, you should hold no worries for your proposal, I swear upon it.”

“And yet I feel as though one hair out of place and she might quit me,” grumbled Jongup. “Is it a family affliction then? We are both so dumb around them that I hardly see why they tolerate us, and yet her kind shyness still tricks me into thinking she might see in me what I see in her.” He sighed and straightened. “We are the same, she and I, I swear it. Never once had she bested me in chess, yet since she learned the game not once have I, her. We stand on equal ground as if we are the same mind working against itself.”

“If you find a means of actually speaking to her, I would be interested in hearing it. Yesterday I dared a couple simple words to my Daehyun, only because I could not see him and so it was easier. Yet, he cried harder… I worry I had been mistaken.” Yongguk came to pull Jongup away from the mirror, setting his hair right once and for all before stepping away.

“Shall I always be so useless around her?” Jongup asked.

“I don’t know, though that would certainly be an interesting life to live.” There was a silence between them, one both comfortable and not. “Are you certain it is time to reveal all to her?”

“I am not,” said Jongup softly. “I have never been less certain in my life and yet… yet I feel as though I must tell her before the lie unravels. For you, it is a matter of my forcing you… the blame cannot be placed on you for the lie but rather only myself, so there is no harm if it’s revealed by another. Yet, if my love were to hear I had lied, of my own will, from another, then ‘twould be hard to win her forgiveness.”

“May I ask yet who this fair lady is, to win your heart?”

“Never, Yongguk, should you ask such a thing. I shall reveal her name to you when all is set, but until the time comes, I shan’t tell you,” replied Jongup. In truth he had kept his visit to Daehyun’s family secret, and Yongguk had yet to find out. He was worried of how cross Yongguk would be to find that Jongup had lied and disobeyed his wishes, so he had kept his secret well.

“You are a strange one, yet ‘tis me you call the madman,” teased Yongguk. 

“For you are mad,” Jongup agreed. “You who raves for hours from just the smallest inkling of a comforting embrace truly wish to say I am the madman? You act as though you love him yet you have known him truly not more than a month.”

“I have no shame in my love for him, Jongup, for I do love him. He who shines brighter than the sun called upon my heart from the moment I first heard his voice, and had stolen from me within less than two songs. To be near him is a heaven I cannot describe, and I have no shame if I sound like a madman in admitting it. ‘Tis harder, each day, to tear myself away from his side. I feel as though if I were to spend a day without him, I would simply cease to be. How is that for mad, then?”

“I shall call the doctor at once,” said Jongup in jest. “I am truly happy, though, brother, don’t let my disposition fool you. To see you so purely in love with no trickery at hand… ‘tis all I wanted. To see you happy and healthy again ‘twas the whole purpose of my actions of late.”

“And for that you have succeeded, for as long as he is with me every day I shall be able to smile,” said Yongguk.

He didn’t sound like himself. Yongguk hadn’t sounded like himself in years, yet day by day he sounded less and less of himself. It was as if his mind had been lost, and a new one had replaced it. Yet, Jongup feared interrupting such peace, for even if his brother was strange and alien, at least for once in years gone by he was smiling, awake, and lively. It was at the point where Jongup would accept even the wildest of insanities so long as it kept his brother on his feet. Anything, anything in the world at all, would be better than Yongguk reverting to how he had been before.

And so when Yongguk left to visit Daehyun again, Jongup had not a word to say against it. Perhaps it was even better, as it gave him a little time to prepare his speech for his guest.

When Yubin joined him it was clear she had been dressed in her best, the attire that had been commissioned for her appearance before the King in the contest, as was commissioned for all of Yongguk’s suitors. He supposed it was Himchan’s doing, in knowing what Jongup’s plans for the afternoon were, as he had also insisted Jongup remain in his more kingly garb.

Yet he was happy. They looked fitting for the High Tea set in front of them in the carefully furnished, ornate room. Yubin’s cheeks were already pink and her eyes sparkling with delight and excitement, but something then had to be broken that had been kept carefully between them.

Silence.

It had been curated between the pair, both too nervous to say more than a handful of words to one another. However the time had come for such things to break and Jongup, still too shy from her sweet smiles to speak to her directly, turned his attention to the window and the pattering rain before he spoke. “If you’d join me, Miss Yubin.” His voice was still soft and at a loss of much of the confidence he had first met her with. She came to stand by his side and share a gaze out at the heavy rain.

“‘Tis easier like this,” she noted, as if as always they were on the same page. “I must apologize for my shyness, Sir. ‘Tis a shame we so seldom speak for it, yet in this way I feel as though I may talk to you for hours.”

“We have quite the conversation ahead,” Jongup agreed. “But first, I must ask if you will keep a number of secrets for me. Even if they are to ruin me and my brother in your eyes, even if you are to wipe your hands clean of me after to-day, I must ask that you keep them yet. Shall you? ‘Tis much to ask, I know. ‘Tis much to ask, but I hold no wishes for forgiveness, only secrecy. I shall very well understand if you—”

“I shall happily keep your secrets, Sir,” interrupted Yubin, as Jongup had begun to nervously pick up speed in his speech and ramble the same meaning over and over. 

Jongup smiled, but neither turned away from the window to look at one another. “Then I shall start with what I suppose is the most damaging to my character and that of my brother — I am the King of Usli. My brother Yongguk is the Prince to which you are all trying to become engaged. We had— or primarily I had— devised a scheme in which we pretended to be simple members of the Court in hopes that we might know the candidates of our contest well without any falsehoods that one might put on to impress us.”

Yubin was silent for a long time. “May I ask for proof, Your Majesty?”

Jongup replied with a small noise of distress before anything else. “Please, dearest Binnie, don’t speak to me with such formality. I am still the same man as before, I swear to you. I understand if you are cross with me, but please—”

“Proof, Your Majesty,” she repeated, and he knew then that she was quite cross with him.

He went and fetched for her his crown, which he placed lopsidedly on his head. She thinned her lips and adjusted it for him. He led her then down the hall, where servants greeted him with all the formality expected to a King, to the line of coronation paintings of his family over the hundreds of years they had ruled over Usli. There, at the end of the line, was his own. She looked at it for a long time, at he with Yongguk standing behind him, their faces younger but still the same, and then near-trudged back down the hall to the room where they were to take their tea. Jongup followed after with a nervous energy in each step.

“Will you tell me, dearest Binnie, what is on your mind now?” He requested softly. She had returned to the window on which rain was hammering, and he stood not 3 meters behind and watched her slumped shoulders regain proper posture.

“Just the silly wishes of girl,” she said, “‘twas too much to expect of you, then. I shan’t let myself off into such nonsense dreams again.” She seemed more cross at herself than at him.

In a moment in which hope sprung in Jongup’s heart, he wondered if as always, they were on the same page of the same book, yet he had read ahead. “I wonder if we, a silly girl and a silly boy, have the same nonsense dreams,” he replied. He came up to her side but this time did not face the window but rather her, and she, him. He took her hand in his own, in the delicate way that one might for a lover and dared to let his other rest on her cheek. The way she looked at him reminded him that even if she were to be cross primarily towards herself, she was also quite cross at him. All at once his heart was stuck in his throat.

“I shan’t let myself be scandalized, Your Majesty.” Her voice was firm and hurt, yet there was fire in her eyes.

“I couldn’t ask for such a thing,” he replied softly. “I’m taken by you, Miss Yubin. I am so madly and earnestly falling— fallen for you that I can barely say the words for fear you might quit me. You who shines brighter than the sun, so clever and so sweet that you have no equal. Your love of your family and your care over them is one which I could only dream of matching, and we — I believe we match well on all else. In chess, we always end on a draw as we are of the same mind. We, together, seem like the most natural and logical moment in the world.”

“I shan’t be a concubine,” said Yubin, firmer yet.

“And I shan’t have any,” replied Jongup. “‘Tis not who I ask you to be, love. The first and only, the throne by my side for you. Someone such as yourself would make the country of Usli better than it has ever been, and me better than I could ever wish to be.”

“Have you no arrangements?” She asked. Her cheeks had turned red and yet she would not lose her firm practicality. “You shan’t be fool enough to break them for me.”

“I was once set to marry the once-Princess of Amara, arranged only two years before it was broken. She has since abandoned our arrangement upon her crowning as queen for a woman she loves dearly, and I, holding no ill will, sent the infant orphan of the late Avoshi King as a wedding present to be their child. She and I have yet to meet, but have had correspondence by letter alone agreeing to end our engagement four years ago, and remain on friendly terms only. I wrote to her of you when we first met, in the most limited detail I could, and she gave her blessing in the warmest manner. I have no arrangements to bind me,” he replied.

“You held no ill will in the slightest?”

“We were on the brink of a second war, with the Amarim King and Choi merchants dead for their aid to the Avoshi, and Junhong in our permanent custody. ‘Twas agreed he would be given to us as payment for the broken arrangement, to his delight now that he has been married to his love. In return we were to take our countries as family, abandon the wars of our fathers along with the arrangement, and answer the call of duty in our own homelands. She had told me from the start by letter that she had no interest in men, and I had never intended to force her. Please, love, there is only you. I would sooner lose my Crown than you.”

“Then you are a fool, for that is what shall be,” she replied softly. “I shan’t say I’m not of the same heart, Your Majesty. Heart and mind we are one and the same, but I will not be your ruining, even as I long for you.”

“You shan’t be,” he said firmly, “dear love, I have done my scheming and my research. I have consulted with all elders and advisors, all priestesses and all scrolls. Should our brothers be wed, and they are quite taken by one another I am sure, then I shall place you and your siblings as their children. It shall look to the masses as a great ploy to remove my brother from the Crown — I must assure you, wholeheartedly, by his own word if I must fetch him, that he gave it willingly and never wishes for its return — as he will have no means to a legitimate heir. If none of his children are his own, and he with his husband has no means of producing a legitimate heir, he will happily be removed as the inheritor of the Crown, however the children he has adopted, you and your younger siblings, shall be raised in status to that of the Court. In history, such arrangements have been made and the adopted children have easily taken lordships or married into unsullied noble lines. Such our union would bring no damage nor complaint, love. If you will have me, there shall be no issue.”

“And yet there is, my love,” she dropped her formality in a sudden moment to sob, “there is for I— I must confess something too. I ask only that you bring no harm to my family for my confession, but I shall take the penalty. My love, I am Ipparim— the child of the Ip’pi sirens and their wretched captors, torturers, and rapists, the Amarim. I am of the magic sort that was prohibited, hunted, and hated by the Avoshi. Should anyone know— the Avoshi would revolt and demand my burning— that is, if you are not planning such a thing already.”

“I am not,” he assured quickly. “I had not heard— I had only heard of Junhong’s myths of the matter, I never knew them to be true. I shan’t allow harm to you or your family on the matter, rather I shall make clear now, before anything comes to attention, that all persecuted peoples under the Avoshi rule are welcome and free in Usli. I shan’t allow such a thing to keep us apart, love.”

She shook her head firmly, “the Avoshi shan’t stand for such a thing. They despise us with every bone in their bodies. They call us witches and tricksters, say we are one with great Evil, some even say we are not human but rather animals or monsters. Should they find out, they would declare I had sung  _ the Siren’s Song _ to steal your heart and demanded for both of us to be burned.”

“And yet I am a king with armies at my disposal, and all their revolts in the past have lasted no more than a week,” he replied firmly. “I shan’t let them keep us apart with their wretched words and I shan’t let harm come to you or your family, Binnie, I swear it.”

She sobbed for longer yet, relieved and full of fear all at once, but it was not until she quieted that Jongup dropped to propose properly. “My love, I am sorry for our secrets which we must bear until our brothers wed, but I love you, and I would like to beg for your hand in marriage.”

“If you’ll have me, I’ll go happily,” she agreed softly, and so the arrangement was set secretly, unknown to all but the two. They took tea together mostly happily, a shy and excited silence between them, but it was not until they were midway through their game of chess that either spoke again. In that time Jongup struggled to digest the truth he had been given about his love.

“Binnie, is there really such a thing as a magic Siren’s Song? What would it do? Would I be foolish to ask to hear it?” Jongup asked.

“Indeed it would be foolish, for it is real, and it is a curse of sorts. It is in a tongue so ancient even we do not understand the words fully, yet it steals the hearts of non-Ipparim right from their chest. I could hum it for you, if it were not for the fit of worry such an idea causes me.”

“Why do you think it a curse? Is it not love that it creates?”

“The sufferer may call it love, but truly to all else it is a curse. Not only is it a forceful sort which robs the sufferer of all ability to consent or choose, it afflicts them with a terrible illness, an addict’s obsession. To be a moment without their Siren is painful. Perhaps they might bear it if they catch the disease in passing never to see their Siren again, but the more time spent with their Siren, the more the disease will eat away at their heart, until even a moment away will cause them intense pain and illness, while in their presence they will slowly become possessed by a manic, needy joy and bitter jealousy. The effects, admittedly, take months of contact with the siren to fully form, but that does not excuse it. My family and I refuse to sing it.”

“How did you learn it then? Were you born with knowledge of it?” Jongup asked.

“Indeed not. Amongst Ipparim it has no effect, and so our grandmother used to sing it to Daehyun and I as a matter of affection. As we grew older, Daehyun would take our siblings out far into the woods to fish where it was safe and teach them it with strong warnings they could never sing it.”

“Is there a cure?” Jongup asked, his mind working in the most intense and terrified way.

“Indeed, but ‘tis an awful one. A song named after those wretched captors:  _ ‘Amarim’ _ can break nearly any love apart. Amongst family we teach it in small verse to avoid its effect, for only the strongest and purest of feelings may survive. In the case of true love, it’s effects may be felt for a week or two, but they will fade into love once again. In the case of normal love, it shall simply end, though friendly feelings and admiration shall likely remain. But in the case of those cursed by the Siren’s Song, it causes a great illness, one that leaves the sufferer bedridden in pain and tears for two weeks, at the least. When they heal, they will arise with only vile hatred for their once-Siren, and would sooner kill them than stomach ten minutes in the same room together,” said Yubin.

“If you were to sing  _ Amarim _ to me I believe there would be no effect,” mumbled Jongup.

“And yet I shan’t stomach the risk of it, my love,” replied Yubin.


	8. 7. Amarim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A song named after those wretched captors: ‘Amarim’ can break nearly any love apart. Only the strongest and purest of feelings may survive. In the case of true love, it’s effects may be felt for a week or two, but they will fade into love once again. In the case of normal love, it shall simply end, though friendly feelings and admiration shall likely remain. But in the case of those cursed by the Siren’s Song, it causes a great illness, one that leaves the sufferer bedridden in pain and tears for two weeks, at the least. When they heal, they will arise with only vile hatred for their once-Siren, and would sooner kill them than stomach ten minutes in the same room together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments greatly appreciated~ Constructive criticism welcome~

“We ought to sing,” Yuna said with the certainty only a five-year-old could manage. “We ought to sing the  _ Sailor’s Song _ .” Her siblings were still gathering, and the oldest amongst them were arguing in the corner in soft voices. It was an uneasy sort of day, and the little girl’s proposition caught the attention of a couple of them.

“Why that, Yuna? There is no journey ahead of us,” replied Yejun.

“I just like it lots!” replied Yuna. “‘Tis my favorite.”

If only to amuse her, if only to save the younger bunch of them from the tension of the room, Yewon and the older set of twins sat down on the floor with her and Yeeun, and began to sing:

“ _ ‘Tis not the tides that will bring you back to me _ _   
_ _ but there’s love in the wind that sets you out to sea _ _   
_ _ as Sailors come the bright winds lets them go _ _   
_ _ and the songs we sing that bring them home _ _   
_ _ ‘Tis not the cries that will bring you back to me _ _   
_ _ but there’s a song in the wind to pull you back from sea _ _   
_ _ as Sailors sail their Siren loves let them go _ _   
_ _ For in trust there is love beyond the unknown _ _   
_ __ and the songs we sing that bring them home—”

Their song was interrupted as the older set’s discussion grew too loud to continue. Daehyun had come to sit on the bed then, and Yubin stood near to him with her arms crossed in discontent.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Yubin asked him. She was dressed in her nicest gown, that commissioned for the contest’s appearance before the King, as Youngjae had been right of the rain to come, and she was soon off to the other castle to meet Jongup and the King.

Daehyun had told them all earlier to gather in their innermost room, where they were certain the sound of their singing wouldn’t travel. He had the three youngest gathered around him, little Minyoung covered in scales still held in his arms. “I quit the contest last night with a mind for it, Binnie. The doctor has no cure and… and when Yongguk held me last night, I knew. He saw me and came to hold me. He has my heart, I realized then, ‘tis the only way.”

“Are you a fool then?” Yerim chastised, although it was clear she was just scared. “Are you lost of all reason, huh? Shall you literally cut your heart from your chest just because some  _ Amim-loving _ , barely-a-quarter boat-boy said you must? How do you know he has any sense? And what of waiting?”

“What of it?” replied Daehyun. “‘Tis raining today just as Youngjae said it would. Himchan has her dressed in her Court gown and will fetch her soon to meet with Jongup and perhaps the King. It’s clear a proposal is being devised for to-day, so soon our misfortune should end. There is no reason to tie myself to Yongguk any longer. Is it better to wait and see if Minyoung is lost to us? Shall I act only once we’ve buried her in this foreign land?”

Yerim grew so frustrated she might scream, and said, “no reason other than that of your heart, you fool! Yes, surely, Jongup has his heart set on our Binnie and a more certain path shall be set for them today, but that does not remove you from a right to happiness! You in a month have found more love for him than anyone in the world ought to be capable of. No words, no touch, barely a glance and you both love each other so! Why should you ruin your own budding happiness?”

“Because he has to,” Yejun cut in, in his quiet and solid way before Daehyun could speak. “He has given himself charge over all of us since Father passed, and no attempts have been able to tear that from him. There is no use in convincing him that he is any less than our keeper.”

“You’ll let him ruin himself for you—” Yerim accused.

“I don’t know,” said Yejun. “I don’t know what I shall do. I only know that I’m afraid. Every day there are more scales, Yuri and I are progressing quickly toward our ends and I am afraid. I thought us lucky, a family of 11 yet all the children live to adulthood, but I was proven a fool. I shan’t make it to thirteen, Yerim, and it scares me.”

It silenced her quickly.

“Sit quietly, then,” Yubin requested, a discontented, heart-broken understanding in her tone. “We shall all sit and listen.”

“You must promise me, Binnie, for I am putting it all on your shoulders, that you find love here. I wished for this not, ‘tis the least pleasant thing I can ask of you. I wished only for you to live happily and choose to marry without the pressure of our fortune, yet… I have failed,” she daren’t disagree with Daehyun for she knew he was of a stubborn mind that day, yet she leaned against him still and shook her head to show her disagreement.

“Maybe he’ll love you enough to survive it,” said Yewon, attempting a smile. “Maybe he’ll love you so dearly that it survives! And even if it doesn’t, ‘tis not the Siren’s Song that binds him. He shan’t hate you after you sing. Perhaps he shall fall in love with you a-gain.”

“If it were the Siren’s Song that bound him, I do not think I could find my voice to sing,” Daehyun admitted softly. “To know he would despise me is too painful. I am ashamed to admit it, yet today is a day to acknowledge my weaknesses, I suppose. If it were to be the Siren’s Song, I couldn’t sing a word of  _ Amarim _ to him at all. I would… I do not know what I would do. I suppose there is no reason to worry of such a thing.”

“You shall rip your heart out, and the two weeks hence you shall find he loves you yet, I swear it,” said Yewon firmly. “I know it to be so.”

“Did you dream it?” Yerim asked.

“No, I had no sense of premonition. I am simply sure,” said Yewon again. “So sing, if you must, Daehyunnie, for even if it shall hurt, it shall only hurt for fourteen days. Once it has passed, our world will be happy again.” She had an infectious sort of happy confidence that she built up, but of all her siblings, Yubin could not catch it.

Yubin remembered well as their parents died within mere months of one another, Yewon had similar sentiments for them. In the end, she had known they were dying, and had seen in dreams they would be departed soon. She had said those similar confident words that all would work out and all would be okay as a comfort. Yewon, it turned out, despite having the purest of hearts, was the most excellent of liars. And so, knowing her bedside manner well, Yubin only felt more fear at her sister’s words, while all the others found peace in them.

With the rest calmed by Yewon’s promise, Daehyun was able to sing to them. The words of  _ Medicinal _ came stronger from him than ever before. He would not let himself cry as he sang, even as the words he had once sang mindlessly came back to curse him with their promise: 

_ Let my song be medicinal _ _   
_ _ Let me heal all wounds _ _   
_ _ Anything payable is fixable _ _   
_ __ And I’ll surely pay you soon

_For if it’s unfixed my heart shall break_ _  
_ _For if left a-lone my heart it’ll take_ _  
_ _My heart…_   
__My heart…?

_ I’ll give my heart, take it from me _ _   
_ _ Health in return for my heart, please _ _   
_ _ Still beating, torn from my chest _ _   
_ _ Take it and save my best _   
_ I’ll rip my heart out if you do, _ _   
_ __ Honor your word and I’ll honor mine too

_ Let my song be medicinal _ _   
_ _ Let me heal all wounds _ _   
_ _ Anything payable is fixable _ _   
_ __ And I’ll surely pay you soon

_ A letter, a plea _ _   
_ _ Save what’s precious to me. _

Even Minhyuk and Minwoo, who were as terribly hyperactive as all three-year-olds are, had sat quietly and near still. Then again, young children are quite perceptive, even when they can’t understand the full breadth of a situation, if something is off, wrong, or upset they often know. It was clear the two little boys knew then, both hugging onto Minyoung in Daehyun’s arms and listening to their brother’s song. When it had finished, they even started to sing it over and over themselves, though they could not remember the words to it and soon lost most of the tune as well.

Little nine-year-old Yeeun begged softly, with the song finished, to hold Minyoung, and so once she was sat safely on the floor between the twelve-year-old twins, Yejun and Yuri, she was given the little girl to hold. Minwoo and Minhyuk climbed onto the older twins laps so they could stay close to her, and little five-year-old Yuna came to sit in front of the congress. 

“Yewon, Yerim, today we shall leave the lot of them in your care,” Daehyun instructed carefully. His eyes were reddish yet he still refused to cry in front of them. “Yubin will set out soon, and if the past month has been any indication, Yongguk shall come not long after she is gone. I shall be asking him for a walk, and shall endeavor to find some far off place with him where I can sing. That means reaching us shan’t be easy if there is an issue.”

“We shall manage well enough,” promised Yewon before Yerim could allow any of her bitterness to permeate the conversation. “The governesses shall come in barely any time at all, and until then we can keep them well-behaved.”

“I shall count on you then,” said Daehyun with affection, giving them both pats on the head. “If there is too much of an issue, call for the guards and servants around for help.”

“Must you continue on like this?” Yerim whined. “I am seventeen, not eleven. I can care for the lot of them on my own if I must. Even if Wonnie must be incessantly positive, they two of us as a team can manage the other seven without any of your worrying. Do not treat us as young children, I’m practically an adult!” She had all the whining frustration of a still young adolescent in her which coaxed a smile from her brother.

“Fine, well, then. I shall let you be,” Daehyun agreed.

A knock at the door sounded and the oldest three came from the innermost room to answer it. There, in the doorway, stood Yongguk, who had fetched Youngjae to join him. “Daehyun, if possible, and certainly we understand the difficulty this may cause your family, Yongguk would like you to join him on a stroll and chat with him privately. I shall be along to translate,” requested Youngjae. Yongguk, by his side, had an excited nervousness about him.

“I had intended to request the same thing of Yongguk today,” replied Daehyun. “Perhaps either of you might know of a far off place, where our words shan’t carry even through the door.”

Youngjae’s face fell, but before he could object, Yongguk asked for a translation, and the answer came, “Yongguk very much agrees with your sentiment, and such a secret keep does exist in this castle. He believes, if possible, we should depart at once.” 

Daehyun sent one last look to his sisters, trying to muster a brave smile, and told Binnie to enjoy herself without worry. Then, the three boys set off down the castle halls. Youngjae spoke to Yongguk first, and then again to Daehyun, “you must forgive me, Daehyun, if I have the wrong opinion of the matter, but I hope your request did not pertain to your unfortunate discovery the night before.”

“‘Tis a heavy heart that tells you it does,” replied Daehyun. “Yongguk must be informed on the matter at once, but ‘tis still meant to be secret.” His second statement sought only to throw the guards off his trail. He was not certain of how many understood Avoshi, but it would certainly be bad for he and Youngjae to appear to be discussing a secret plot given how Yongguk would likely be later in the day. To make it seem rather as though they were working together in favor of Yongguk would be a much safer matter.

“Is there any chance I might convince you to consider another time?” Youngjae asked, though his expression seemed to emphasize he was asking Daehyun to find another manner, “it seems awfully rushed, in the face of new information. Perhaps you should wait to inform him, or choose a less harmful manner of doing so.” 

“How is your Amarim?” replied Daehyun.

Youngjae thinned his lips and spoke to Yongguk again as they walked farther through the maze of castle halls. Slowly, it grew to be a maze in navigation. Half of the guards, those that understood Avoshi it seemed, were left outside of the outermost portion of the keep. With each new room and level, more guards stayed back, until the innermost door was reached with no one but the three to breach it. Inside was a small terrace, with greenery in pots along its edges, and a bench at its center. Looking up, one could see the stories and stories of the stone castle above, surrounding them up to the sky with no windows around.

Yongguk spoke and Youngjae translated, “this keep was kept in secret as a space for the Kings of old to consult in the utmost of secrecy. There are many like it in the main castle, but this one is so out of the way that few remember it. Yongguk knows it only because when the Prince was young, he used to escape out here to read and be by himself whenever he could not face his duties.”

“‘Tis lovely,” said Daehyun. He had not a chance for another word.

Yongguk spoke longer, and Youngjae translated when there were pauses. It seemed the entire speech had already been rehearsed between the two, given how fluid Youngjae’s translations came when normally they were much more disjointed.

“Yongguk is quite determined to let you know, against his brother’s wishes, that he loves you. He believes you are the only person there is in the world for him. He says a moment away from your side is a slowly growing torture, and that he can seldom believe he survived five years of it when now it feels as though the nights and mornings without you are… drowning him… oh this…”

“If you could tell him honored,” Daehyun requested.

The translation game was played, and Youngjae came back with, “he has said he loved you since he first heard you some five years ago. He had been ill with grief and worry over your absence since that day, and has never tired of the search for you. How, he asks, did he survive without you for five years? Without a word, with seldom a glance, you have ‘struck him through the heart like an arrow, torment him with any gaze toward another, and haunt him whenever apart’. He says ‘tis torture to think you might dare to love another, and even if his brother still holds too much caution to submit, he wants to make certain you shall be his for eternity.”

“Is he… proposing?” Daehyun asked. “‘Tis an… odd proposal… if it is so.”

“Indeed it seems to be so,” replied Youngjae. “He promises you it is not a momentary attraction, he had loved you before you ever even knew him and this has just continued since then. The day you met, he says, he spied you from the forest. He claims to remember it vividly and to see it in every dream. You had been deep in the woods, miles from your home, and you and your younger brother had been fishing together on a large, hidden lake. He claims he watched as the fish hopped from the water and into your boat.”

“You must convince him such a thing is preposterous. He cannot know the truth of the matter. Yejun and I went out often to that lake so we might use the  _ Fisherman’s Song _ .”

“Of course, I have told him time and time again it is impossible,” agreed Youngjae. “He says he had been intrigued, but the moment that had brought on his love for you was not long after. At your brother’s request you had begun to sing—”

“Wait, no, please,” interrupted Daehyun. Yejun had a great love of the sound of the Siren’s Song, and when the two went to the far lake he often begged Daehyun to sing it. “Tell me it is not so, or if it must be, ask him to speak more of it.”

Youngjae translated, and came back with, “‘tis so. Is it not just the  _ Fisherman’s Song _ ? Perhaps your own calling song?” 

Yongguk interrupted.

“He says the tune you sang haunts his dreams so regularly and nestled so dee— oh dear. ‘It nestled so deeply in my heart that I might feel I hear it just at the sight of you,’ he says. Tell me ‘tis not—” Youngjae cut himself off, and then Yongguk took the pause as a cue to hum his well-remembered tune.

“To remember it after hearing it once,” Daehyun whispered in terror. “There is not doubt he is sick with it.”

“Are you certain?” Youngjae asked. “Do you sing it at all? I didn’t think you the sort.”

“Only at the Far Lake, miles in the forest and hidden from the world, where no one may find us… or so I thought. My brother loves it so, and he was keen at a young age to learn it so he might whisper it to our younger siblings in affection, as I had done to him and his twin sister as infants… It was meant to be safe out there. No one was meant to be around to hear. I swear it, Youngjae. I swear it! I would never do such a thing—” His distress grew to such an extent that Yongguk began demanding translations he did not receive.

“And yet now we are certain it has been done,” mumbled Youngjae, heartbroken.

“So, I had cursed him by accident with the  _ Siren’s Song  _ and all since then had been a lie. I suppose, it’s enough to break me. Does that not rip my heart out enough? To know his affection was never real…” Daehyun asked. He was not quite in tears, yet his voice was so shaky and unsure that Yongguk had wrapped his arms around him and demanded a translation from Youngjae. From the little Daehyun understood, it seemed as though Youngjae was lying flatly about the matter.

“Shall you be alright?” Youngjae asked.

“I shan’t survive it,” replied Daehyun softly. “I am a villain to have cursed him, to have nearly stole him from the world with my voice and nary the idea of it. I shan’t survive this. The guilt of it eats at me already, tearing me to shreds for being none the wiser of his state. How had I been so blind? How had I believed— tricked myself so deviously into believing his attraction to me might be genuine? He is the whole world— the most moral, kind, intelligent, and upright man and I— I am nothing but a dirty trickster, a siren that rips out and devours the hearts of men, and a thief in stealing a good man’s heart by the worst of means. I will never forgive myself.”

“Do you think it is yet enough?” asked Youngjae. “I feel as though your heart has been torn from you, just in this manner seems to be enough. Perhaps you do not even need to sing to him to save your siblings. Perhaps… perhaps this is enough.”

“You are suggesting I might not sing to him?” Daehyun’s voice had almost a quality of hope. His eyes brightened and he looked to Youngjae.

“Indeed, you might be well as is,” Youngjae was near-pleading. It was clear he too despised the discovery. “Had I known the truth of  _ Medicinal _ might call for you to sing to him, I might’ve never told you at all. Perhaps ‘tis cruel of me, but I would’ve let your siblings go rather than Yongguk. Hear me now as pleading with you on his behalf. Five years ago, he and his brother saved Junhong and I from abusive families and lives we despised. He saw to it we were treated well even as prisoners, and had his brother arrange it so that we might stay together in safety, rather than return my Junhong to a country that thinks him a traitor. He is of that sort of man. He is the kindest of men, I swear it. He is has the truest of hearts, the most moral of souls, and the wisest of minds. I must plead with you, please, do not hurt him so. Do not sing to him. He shall make you happy, if you let him. He shall make the world brighter if only you do not consume his heart with hatred and disgust. I beg of you, please, do not taint a pure soul. Do not be the end of a good man.”

Daehyun had gone silent, which only served to perpetuate Youngjae’s plea. His words hit Daehyun’s numb skin one after another, driving him deeper into an abyss of his own making. He found himself alone at sea. He was lost in the unfamiliar words far from his home. He could not stand himself in those moments, could not tolerate a single feature. He felt all the hatred towards himself that Yongguk would feel should he sing for his most terrible of accidents. He could not let himself be the end of a pure soul.

“Yet, I already am. I must sing.” Daehyun’s voice was soft and broken. “Tell him now that I shall sing to him. Tell him to give me his knife as a ceremonial gesture. Tell him he shall listen to me now, and if the arrangement is still to his liking in two weeks, it shall be. Then you must leave us.”

“He shall despise you above all else,” said Youngjae. “You shall never even be capable of sharing a room again—”

“And yet, I must. I must. For I’ve cursed him, Youngjae. I’ve brought upon him the worst fate. Even if he shall detest me. Even if I shall live the rest of my life in melancholic guilt, alone, I shall have to bear it for— for I cannot trap and torture him. Even if it destroys me, I must set him free. Tell him now and leave us, so I might save the bare shreds remaining of your own opinion of me.”

Youngjae translated Daehyun’s words slowly, his speech long and filled with hesitation, as if he was trying to explain away all of the strangeness about to occur. With confusion, finally, Yongguk presented Daehyun with his knife, and Youngjae was able to leave them in a hurry.

The leather casing was smooth as Daehyun turned the knife around in his hands and found the courage to sing. The stitching around the sides was rough against his skin and he could feel the form of the knife underneath. The smell of it was sharp and the look of it, polished. Had it ever been used? Even in self-defense, he could imagine not Yongguk springing into action with knife in hand, the blood that was to rust the surface spreading across their feet. No, it had likely never been used. Yongguk would never use it, not even to save himself from a pernicious snake.

“Daehyun?” Yongguk dared to ask, certainly confused by the silence when he had been promised a song. 

When Daehyun met his gaze, it was no longer affection he saw in his eyes but a cursed obsession. Their love was one-sided, and no matter how he wished for Yongguk, he could to tie him down nor force him. It was all unwell. It was all its own torture.

“Everything shall be all right,” Yongguk promised. The words were so natural and well-spoken that Daehyun could only imagine Yongguk had practiced them hundreds of times over.

Finally, after minutes of curious and uncomfortable silence, Daehyun’s voice broke, “yes, it shall all be okay.” With that curse of promise hung between them, his song began. The tune was put together with a mounting terror, a tremendous raise of fear, and a  crescendo of disgust that Daehyun managed despite the tears gathering in his eyes. He sung with hatred for what he had done, no matter how it hurt him. A song mean to be filled with vile hatred for another instead focused on his own dismay at the torment he had caused.

On the first verse, Yongguk had a sparse cough. The chorus brought it more frequent. The second chorus had him coughing endlessly, so much so that Daehyun had to raise his voice simply to ascertain he was being heard. Said cough turned to choking, desperate and airless choking, as the second chorus came about. Yongguk couldn’t so much as wheeze as a third verse came about, purely from how he had been left breathless. As the third chorus came, and the bridge after, Yongguk began to wretch and writhe, bent over himself with his arms around his stomach as he tried to force out the vomit suck in his throat, and shook all the while. At the fourth chorus, it finally came, not the vomit one would find when one was sick but rather as a small eel-like slithering thing that writhed on the ground by his feet. He, in his blearly state, could not believe in it.

Yet, Daehyun saw it well enough and stepped on it to hold it down before it could slither it’s slimy body back up Yongguk’s leg to nestle back in his heart. He pulled the knife from the sheath quickly, yet to pause his song even as Yongguk collapsed and the creature writhed, and only just finished it as he chopped the little monster to bits.

“There is no place for you in this world any longer, Ip’pi,” he told the chunks that once made up the baby siren. “Lay to rest. Stay to rest. Perhaps… there is no place for me in this world now as well.”

Yongguk was laying on the ground, slumped and bent into a ball. He was growing pale and shook violently despite his unconscious state. Foam had begun to gather around his parted lips. He had yet to start his bout of spasms and convulsions, as he soon would, only tremors to torture him yet. 

Daehyun took the knife quickly to Yongguk’s ankle, placing to small cuts like a snake bite upon a spot of visible skin, then called out as loudly as he could in distress. “Guards! Guards! Help, please!” 

Guards rushed in with Youngjae by their side, suspicion on their faces at Daehyun with a knife in his hands near their downed master. “What happened?” Youngjae asked him forcefully, as if he did not already know. He went so far as to throw Daehyun against the wall and hold him there for the effect on the guards.

“As I sang to him, a snake came from the greenery, I swear it!” Daehyun lied. “I had his knife for the proposal, but I had no sight of it until he shouted at its venomous bite. See, see, look there! I killed it as soon as I knew, yet I was too late! I was too late!” He, already in tears, was certainly convincing to the guards that understood him, and Youngjae’s translation of the matter left them all convinced of Daehyun’s story. 

They gathered up Yongguk and rushed him away, calling desperately for a doctor to meet them as they went. Only Youngjae remained after, to stare at the remains of the siren while Daehyun, in shambles, collapsed beside it. It was Youngjae who started the song, uncertain and nervous in his pronunciation.

“ _ The Siren loves the sea as does the Sailor _ _   
_ _ In such way their love was tailored _ _   
_ _ ’twas made to be but not for me _ _   
_ _ Keeping my Sailor is but a dream _ _   
_ _ My precious Sailor goes out with the tide _ _   
_ _ Never once will he stay by my side _ _   
_ _ I cannot hold him close, only let him be _ _   
_ _ for the only way to love is for your love to be free _ _   
_ __ for the only way to love is for your love to be free

_ ‘Tis not the tides that will bring you back to me _ _   
_ _ but there’s love in the wind that sets you out to sea _ _   
_ _ as Sailors come the bright winds lets them go _ _   
_ _ and the songs we sing that bring them home _ _   
_ _ ‘Tis not the cries that will bring you back to me _ _   
_ _ but there’s a song in the wind to pull you back from sea _ _   
_ _ as Sailors sail their Siren loves let them go _ _   
_ _ For in trust there is love beyond the unknown _ _   
_ __ and the songs we sing that bring them home

_ If I hold my Sailor close and demand he stay the night _ _   
_ _ possession, obsession shall only leave us in fights _ _   
_ _ yet if I let him go free and do as he please _ _   
_ _ then I shall always find he comes back safely _ _   
_ _ I have set my Sailor free long ago _ _   
_ _ Will he return I do not know _ _   
_ _ To love someone is to let them be _ _   
_ _ The best and happiest they can be _ _   
_ _ Even if that happiness doesn’t include me _ _   
_ _ For even the strongest of plants needs room to grow _ _   
_ __ And ‘tis not love to hold one back to be your own

_ ‘Tis not the tides that will bring you back to me _ _   
_ _ but there’s love in the wind that sets you out to sea _ _   
_ _ as sailors come the bright winds lets them go _ _   
_ _ and the songs we sing that brings them home _ _   
_ _ ‘Tis not the cries that will bring you back to me _ _   
_ _ but there’s a song in the wind to pull you back from sea _ _   
_ _ as Sailors sail their Siren loves let them go _ _   
_ _ For in trust there is love beyond the unknown _ _   
_ _ and the songs we sing that bring them home _ _   
_ __ and the songs we sing that bring them home

_ I pray for you to come back to me _ _   
_ _ I pray for your voyage to take you safely” _


	9. 8. Under A Golden Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two looked out at the golden world together, both feeling as though it didn’t fit at all.
> 
> (This is the last chapter of Part 1. The next chapter will be an Interlude and then we will begin Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna help me pic the couple for my next fic? [pls vote in this poll](https://twitter.com/chuuwonnie/status/983957222630670341) (more info in the thread)
> 
> (While you're at it, I have been posting a lot on my twitter about this story and other ones so [you might wanna follow me there](https://twitter.com/chuuwonnie) for the heck of it)

The rain of the afternoon had lifted not more than a couple hours after midday, and the clouds had worn their way away within minutes. The sun sat low in the sky. The golden afternoon felt hazy and grey from the balcony overlooking the gardens as Daehyun meditated on what he had done. Unbeknownst to him, Jongup stood just a few meters away, looking on at his hunched over, sullen form.

The servants had come to fetch him just as he and Yubin were finishing their tea together, still dressed in their fancied attire and blushing with rosy cheeks and silent looks at one another. With their secret engagement set, Jongup hadn’t thought his mood could be brought low again. That is, until it wasn’t so much brought low as it was completely shattered and destroyed. They had told him at first that Yongguk was bitten by a snake while confessing to Daehyun, and Jongup watched on in terror as his brother convulsed and writhed on the bed. He was unconscious and feverish. The doctors had said there was nothing left to do but wait and pray that Yongguk were to recover as all of the venom had supposedly been removed.

Youngjae had come in not ten minutes later and quietly pulled Yubin aside. A whispered conversation between the two carried on until the beckoned Jongup to join it, likely after Yubin had informed Youngjae that Jongup was now aware of her ancestry. He had found out then what Daehyun had done.

Yubin had been asked to remain with Youngjae by Yongguk’s side, on the off chance she had any non-medicinal means of helping him through. Jongup had sought Daehyun out.

He hadn’t known how long they had both been standing there until the sun had gotten low. Daehyun seemed to glow in the afternoon sun in front of them. Finally, as it became blinding in that Westward window, Jongup came up by Daehyun’s side and rested his arms on the balcony. The two looked out at the golden world together, both feeling as though it didn’t fit at all. 

“I know of the truth,” murmured Jongup.

“And what of it?” Daehyun replied.

“The… affliction… so to speak… that Yongguk suffered from, ‘tis gone now, correct? ‘Tis gone completely? The aftermath is so much like a disease that I cannot help but worry that something has not gone to your plan.”

“The affliction itself had not been my plan,” Daehyun replied firmly. “If you choose to forget all of me but one thing after the hatred in your heart, remember only that: I hadn’t planned such a thing, nor would I ever. Yet, if he is well into seizing, coughing, or if he has yet met the hysterics of it, all had worked as intended. If he were to calm within the next three days, that would be a greater worry, though I feel obligated to inform you he shan’t be himself for two weeks at the minimum. Given the five years it lived within him, it might be longer yet.”

“Yubin had told me everything on the matter,” said Jongup. “I’d like to believe I am well-informed on the process at hand now that I know of you and your… family, so to speak. I’d like to believe I understand as well as one could, in such a new world.”

“Then she is a fool and we are all to die.”

Jongup shook his head and patted Daehyun on the shoulder. “Nothing of the like. The King has declared you all of the Protected sort. He seems to in his more dastardly nature like how it will anger the Avoshi, and in his kinder nature enjoy the notion that he has saved innocent lives from cruelty.”

“The King is only dastardly,” Daehyun cursed quietly, “there’s not a royal in the world that could be described as kind, good, or yet moral. None are innocent.”

Jongup had chosen to ignore the statement. The fact of the matter was that he had worked quite hard to ascertain that he had the image of a dastardly, clever, and ambitious king as it happened to give him more security in his rule. If he had Daehyun fooled for the time being, while his identity was unknown, he had no qualms about it. “What shall you do when he recovers?” Jongup asked.

Daehyun gulped and shifted away. His voice carried melancholic defeat. “I suppose I shall have to avoid him. I suppose I shan’t see him again.”

“Do you wish to?” Jongup asked.

“Of course, more than anything, I wish it could be possible. I… I’ll admit to being very fond of your brother, even at the distance we held ourselves, and… if I were to be bold with you, which I of course won’t be, I would admit I was heartbroken to find out any supposed affection from him was false. If I were to be bold and honest, I would admit that I am yet unsure of how to go on now that I am aware of all the misdeeds in my name. If I were to truly dare to be bold, honest, and open with you, I would admit I had almost backed out of my plan out of pure desire to be near to him, despite the truth of my siblings conditions and impending dooms. If I were to dare, I would tell you, simply, I had only been convinced to go through with it because I had learned of his illness. Do you think me mad? Do you think me a selfish fool? I must truly be cruel, to think so selfishly of my own wishes when their lives are on the line…”

“I think many things of you. If I myself were to dare to be half as bold as you, I would admit I am conflicted to the point that I feel I’ve lost stable ground,” replied Jongup. “I have spent hours trying to find a logical end to my thoughts and there is nothing but emotional turmoil as a conclusion.”

Daehyun looked over to him for a long and uncertain moment, and then back out at the fading afternoon. “If you were to dare to be so bold as to explain your conflicted feelings…”

Jongup nodded, “if I were to be so bold, though we both know I certainly am not, I would explain that I, from any and every angle, have so many opinions on the matter that it is rare to find two that even begin to agree. Perhaps I would tell you that I’m angry. I am angry that you cursed my brother, that you were the cause of a five-year-long illness, that you buried a siren in his heart, and that all of his sufferings began with you. Yet, I would perhaps also tell you that of all of the songs to fall for, he had been struck by the best one, for you were quick and definite in alleviating him of his illness regardless of personal hurt.”

Jongup thought for a bit longer and the sun began to set a wonderful rainbow of shades as the two sullen boys looked on. “Perhaps I would tell you that as a brother, I understand your choice. If Yongguk’s current state was to be deadly, and the only means for my saving of him was to cast your sister aside such that she hated me… I do not know what I would do. I feel as though I understand a fraction of your pain in imagining such a possibility. In the end, however, we are a similar sort— the kind to do anything for our siblings happiness. And so, I wonder if I’d’ve made the same decision as you. I think it’s in my nature to give up everything for my brother if I must. Yet, as  _ Yongguk’s _ brother, I cannot forgive you. I cannot understand why one would cast aside my brother nor why you would allow yourself to hurt him in such a way. Does that sound mad to you? As  _ a _ brother, I understand and agree, but as  _ his  _ brother, I am hurt and enraged.”

“And that, too, I think I understand,” said Daehyun. “For as Yubin’s brother, to hear you say you would cast her aside for Yongguk enrages me. ‘Tis hypocritical, I’m aware, for that is what I’ve done in reverse to you. In my mind, I would sooner lock my siblings away in a fairy tale’s tower than allow them a situation or a spouse that might cause them pain. I would sooner have myself dead than allow them any more pain than that they’ve already suffered. ‘Tis so easy to be irrational in the need to protect them.”

Jongup agreed. “Yet through all of it, a rational voice tells me I am glad for what you’ve done. It would have been to great personal game for you to keep Yongguk under your spell. That you let him free is noble and well. I could not be gladder to see you had made the choice that will, in the long term, be best for him. ‘Twas the noble choice. ‘Tis rare to find a moment in this grey world where there is a clearly drawn line between good and evil, yet you found one and indubitably ran to the side of good without hesitation. I would like to believe that one day I might only feel this gladness towards you, but in the hazy moment I am conflicted.”

“If only we were both so bold as to say such things,” said Daehyun.

“Yes if only such boldness were in our nature. Perhaps expressing the pain we both feel would have been cathartic, and yet, because neither of us are so bold, nothing has been expressed at all. ‘Tis a shame,” agreed Jongup. “Yet there is one more thing I am most certainly not bold enough to say. For if I were to be truly bold, honest, and open for you, perhaps I would dare to tell you the final reason I am quite so hurt.”

“And if you were to be so bold…?” Daehyun asked.

“Well, if I were to be so bold, honest, and open with you, which I certainly am not, I might go so far as to dare to tell you that I am quite hurt for I can no longer marry your sister without a much more complicated plot. Perhaps, I would dare to tell you that… that I am the King of Usli, and Yongguk is the Prince, and that all the while we have been hiding our identities as we oversee the contest. Perhaps I might mention that I had confessed my lie to Yubin today at tea, and that while she was cross with me, she had still agreed to give me her hand in marriage. If I were to dare such unspeakable truths, I would perhaps tell you that the only way conceivable for me to take Yubin as my wife would be for you to be married to a noble and that I had believed your marriage to Yongguk would be the key. Perhaps I would admit that I am scheming yet to find another way to have her hand, and perhaps I would admit that some of my crossness in the matter comes from how you have taken her away from me. Of course, if she were to choose to cast me aside of her own will I would with great melancholy let her go, yet I feel… almost irrationally angry and afraid of the idea that someone else might ruin me in her eyes or prevent my proximity to her. To know that for the moment our union is impossible… I cannot explain the pain it causes me.”

Daehyun was silent for a long time, so much so that Jongup wondered if he was trying to find a way for their union himself. As the brightest part of twilighted shouted out at them, Daehyun’s voice returned to them in a whisper. “Then, even as it hurts me, ‘tis good I did what I had done. She is a fool in ways I had never expected of her to agree to the likes of you, and if I am the cause of such ruin in your disgusting and likely forced arrangement, then I am delighted. If you were to be so foolishly bold as to say such a thing, I would likely become glad to know I had escaped Yongguk, and gladder yet that I had been able to save Yubin from your clutches.”

“What?” Jongup asked in surprise.

“You shan’t marry my sister. I am her keeper and I forbid it. You shan’t have her in any way, for I know your kind. Not as a wife, nor a concubine, nor a mistress. I shan’t let you ruin her. Your kind have no love for people like us. You would use her, hurt her, and scandalize her until her youth began to fade in the slightest, and then you would toss her away like she was nothing when she is in fact the world. Shall you only have protections for the Ipparim until she is no longer young and beautiful? I’m glad to learn that my actions were not just to save three of my siblings from death, but also to save a fourth from you and an unhappy, torturous life.”

“I think you misunderstand me, Daehyun. I am the same man you knew, I swear it. I am not some secretive evil, just a silly boy in a silly crown whose fallen for your sister. I shan’t have anyone but her, I swear it, and I shan’t have her any way but as my queen. I am not a scoundrel. I shall marry her, and I shall cherish her until my dying breath.”

“You are a liar yet,” replied Daehyun firmly. “A liar, a scoundrel, and a bastard. You shan’t have her at all. Knowing your true self, your true nature… you shan’t see her again. You shan’t be in a room with her ever again. I shall see to it. Consider your forced arrangement with her null.”

“‘Twas not forced! I had asked in earnest and she had agreed,” pleaded Jongup.

“You had demanded with threat of punishment and she had agreed out of fear! I need not be there to know my sister is not such a fool as to believe you would ever lower yourself to marry a peasant. You had certainly forced her, and I shall save her from you and your poisonous grasp.”

Jongup had stared at him for a long moment, blankly, with his mouth agape. A panic rose up in his throat so suddenly that he could scarce choke down the scream, “guards! Guards!”

The King’s Guard came rushing in with confusion and drawn swords. Jongup straightened his back in a demanding and kingly way and ordered. “The candidate from Ipa has presented himself as a potential threat to the nation. He is to be brought to a separate quarters from his siblings and guarded at all times. He is not permitted to leave at any point nor shall he be allowed visitors without my direct approval. He will remain in this apartment arrest until Prince Yongguk’s condition improves.”

“And his siblings, Your Majesty?” A guard asked as Daehyun was seized. 

Daehyun was resisting. He was fighting as much as he could in the guard’s grip. His face was that of confusion and surprise, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that Jongup might actually use his power in retaliation for Daehyun’s hatred. Still, he was so much in shock that he could barely stand a chance and had not a word that could coherently fall from his agape mouth as he was being dragged towards one of the many open and empty sections of the castle.

“I shall deal with that matter presently. Send for Yubin, if you will. Tell her of what has come to be with her brother,” said Jongup. A servant was called for and ran to fetch her, and while he waited for her arrival he ordered for the necessary preparations to be made. He then stayed in the same spot and watched the twilight fade from rainbow to sapphire, from sapphire to the sea, and from the sea to nothing at all.

She came with worry and terror in her expression like a storm had wrapped her in its embrace.

“I have had to arrest your brother, so to speak,” said Jongup with sadness. “I shan’t punish him, I swear it, only hold him until my head clears. Once Yongguk is well again, I will be capable of coming up with a solution. Until then… I must find any and every means to keep him from stealing you away from me. I can’t lose you, Yubin.”

“What shall you do?” She replied in fear.

“Do not speak to me with such dread, love,” pleaded Jongup. “I shan’t do anything evil, I swear it. You know me well enough yet to know I am not cruel. I shall only act logically, and that is to separate you and your siblings from one another such that he can’t get to all of you at once.”

Her face fell. Her mouth had gone agape and the look she had given him was almost that of disgust. When he reached for her, she quickly moved away. And yet, she didn’t reply to him. Instead, she came to the door and faced the servants and guards outside and told them, “I would like to be taken to my new quarters now, if you please. I would like it moreso if you could keep His Majesty from coming near my room, but I suppose that is not something I can truly ask of you.”

“Indeed not, Miss,” apologized one of the servants, and with a defeated wave from Jongup, she led Yubin off.

And so it was to be that Jongup came into the family’s once quarters where the younger siblings were gathered in a rage so clear that it silenced them all save the three toddlers. “Your brother has made a choice.” Jongup looked forward, at Yerim, Yuri, and Yejun who were sitting together. He straightened his back. “Knowing full well the rules of the contest at hand and the conditions of his sister remaining in it if he were to remove himself, he chose to run away with all of you rather than allow the possibility of my marriage to her.”

Yewon was on the floor with Minyoung sleeping in her arms, although the little girl was no better off than she had been that morning and given the blood around her scales, one might even suppose she was worse than she had been.

“Why would he object to that?” asked Yerim. “We had all known such a thing was soon to come.”

“Because I am the King of Usli,” admitted Jongup. “My brother, Yongguk, is the Prince of whom the contest centers around. Daehyun had seemed an open fellow, but upon hearing my true identity he had quickly turned fuming and had cast me away without a thought to my character. Now my hand has been forced.”

“Then he is as much of a fool as you,” rebuffed Yerim suddenly.

Jongup was taken aback. “Are you to curse me too? With your brother under the kindest arrest I can afford him, you are to do the same as he? Is this something paupers are completely unaware of? That one shouldn’t curse at a King?”

“Is this something King’s are completely unaware of?” Yerim mocked. “That when you lie of who you are and what you intend to do, all trust is lost and rage replaces it? That to take a man as broken as my brother after all that he has gone through in life and then tell him in truth that all of what he knows of you is a lie and you are in fact what he despises will only serve to enrage him? Have you no thoughts?! What of my dear sister, has she been told? Is she cross with you or has she chosen to foolishly accept you on false promises?”

“What false promises would I make?” Jongup replied.

“Well, to marry her for one,” shouted Yubin. “We all know very well,  _ you _ ought to know very well that no such thing is possible! She is of no name and no house. She has no status, no gains, not even a nice gown beyond what you’ve provided for her! You could not marry her without abdicating.”

“And yet I can, so long as Daehyun is married to a noble and she is adopted by the pair. Originally my plan had been for he and my brother to be in a happy union, and indeed it seems they would have been a wonderful pair, if he hadn’t accidentally cursed my brother with a siren five years ago and been forced to remove it upon discovery today.”

“What?” There was a whisper of dismay amongst the siblings upon discovering their brother’s scandal and their revealed ancestry.

Only Yerim, in her undying rage, was unphased. “As if he would allow you to be with her in any way at all! And now, it doesn’t matter, does it? If you know of a siren, you know what we are. We shall all die presently, so why shouldn’t I curse at you?”

“Ipparim and other groups persecuted by the Avoshi are officially protected by my reign. No harm shall come to any of you for your ancestry,” Jongup replied.

“Then I shall die for cursing anyway, for I have already cursed enough,” said Yerim, in the exact way any teenager who thinks themselves somewhat immortal would say. The fact is, while teenagers understand intellectually that death is inevitable, they rarely act as though they do. 

“Nonsense. You are a child, I shan’t punish you for acting like one,” assured Jongup in an entirely unsure manner.

Yerim was not yet calmed. “My sister is a fool to agree to you knowing full well of its impossibility. Perhaps she has decided to sell herself such that we can have the certainty of food, ‘tis the only rationality I can find. To be so permanently hungry our whole lives, to have not a single meal in the three days preceding the contest and then to be brought here, to have full meals with enough for each of us to have full bellies… that is the only way that she would be so irrational as to agree to a fantasy, I swear it.”

“She didn’t agree purely for the promise of being well-fed and cared for!” Jongup defended in distress.

Yerim opened her mouth to refute him, but Yejun had stopped her with a lilting whisper and spoke again. “What shall happen to Daehyun? To Yubin? And to us? Shall he be killed? Shall she be returned to us and we allowed to continue of the time being as ten not eleven?”

“Daehyun has been put in a private quarters, where he is being guarded and shan’t be able to leave or take visitors without my permission. He is to remain there until Yongguk has healed from his present state of turmoil, and then with a cleared head I shall be able to sort a solution out that shall end in no harm to anyone involved. Yubin shall be given her own quarters, and some of you may stay with her, yet I cannot allow too many of you in any one place. So she’ll have a couple of you with her, and the others shall be placed in the care of people I trust.”

“And why can’t we all stay with her?” Yejun asked.

“For I fear of Daehyun escaping his quarters and making good on his promise to run. Yet, he won’t leave any of you behind. ‘Tis not in his nature. If you are divided up and separate, it should be more difficult for him to escape with you before he is found out and the situation is resolved,” replied Jongup.

“Shall you allow us to go in pairs, at least? To have any of us completely alone would be dreadful,” argued Yejun.

“Then if you shall comply with me and my rules without plotting, I shall allow you to go in pairs and I shall allow you to choose with whom you wish to go,” agreed Jongup. “The youngest children should be decided first, to be certain they are well cared for.”

“Perhaps you might let us bring Minyoung to Dae—” Yejun could not finish his statement before his quiet twin had interrupted. She had seldom spoke since they arrived in the Capitol, yet she spoke then with certainty.

“It is the least wise choice to allow him near Minyoung in his state. Today he has discovered he had cursed his love, that all the attraction had been fake on his love’s side, then he has sung until his love hated him, discovered his sister is engaged to nobility which is one of his greatest fears, and had been locked away. To add to all his pain Minyoung, who despite his song is no better than this morning, would be the death of him.”

“Then what do you see as the best plan?” Jongup asked.

“If I were to implore your Royal… His… what must I call you?” Yuri asked.

“Jongup is well and good,” he replied.

“If I were to implore you, Jongup, to choose the best path for my brother’s health and sanity, I would send one of the other young ones to him, one who is not Minyoung, and one of us older siblings as well.”

Jongup, who was growing less sure by the minute, turned to the youngest four besides little Minyoung, and asked, “which of you would like to stay with your brother Daehyun for the next couple of weeks?” He turned first to the two older girls, who looked at one another with uncertainty and then back to him.

“I wanna go with Yeri,” said five-year-old Yuna. “Please, please, pleeeeeease.”

“Then with Yerim you shall go,” Jongup agreed. Yerim, still subdued by her brother’s previous whispered lilt, took the little girl in her arms. “My advisor, Himchan, has charge over his two younger cousins, both of whom are near your age and speak Avoshi well. Their names are Jiwoo and Hyunjin, I shall send you to stay with him and have Jiwoo remain by your side to make certain all is well.”

“I know her well already,” replied Yerim with pink cheeks. “I am unhappy, yet I shall accept it.”

“Then the next of you,” agreed Jongup as he turned back to the children, again allowing the older girl to pick before her brothers, who were still rolling about on the floor and playing because the seriousness of the situation had seemed to dissipate to them. “Where shall you go?”

“May I go with Wonnie, please, Mr. King?” asked nine-year-old Yeeun.

“Of course,” agreed Jongup. “If it is well with you, Yewon, I shall send the pair of you to stay with Youngjae and his husband, Junhong. They are kind and reliable sort, I swear.” With Yewon’s approval, they moved on to the young twins.

“How about the two of you, would you like to stay with Daehyun?” Jongup asked them.

“I wanna!” cried out Minhyuk in an instant.

“Not me,” said Minwoo.

“Who do you wanna go with?” Asked Jongup.

Minwoo tapped his chin and thought for a couple seconds, and then replied with a child-like smile, “I wanna go with you!”

Jongup could not help but smile at the sweetness, “then, if your siblings agree it is alright, you may come with me and your brother shall stay with Daehyun. Is that well and alright with you?” He asked the others.

“If I might beg that you allow my to accompany Minhyuk to stay with Daehyun,” Yuri asked. “To have two of us with him would surely help his mood.”

“And, Your Majesty, if I might interject, that would mean it would be best to send our youngest, Minyoung, off to to stay with Yubin, whom I assume you shall visit with Minwoo whenever she allows you. If that all is allowed, then I shall be the only one yet to have a place to go,” said Yejun. It was then that Jongup saw clearly that the boy was only twelve, and that while he seemed well-practiced in handling his siblings, he was quite frightened by the situation at hand.

“Where would you like to go?” asked Jongup. “You may pick to stay with anyone, I shall allow it.” It certainly felt like a lot of stress he was putting on these young children, yet his irrational heart could not allow for the possibility that Yubin might be stolen from him.

“If I could, Sir, with you and Minwoo. I shall keep him out of your hair if you shall allow me, Sir. I just wish to see, Sir, if you’ll allow me, that my younger brother is well-cared for, and by that I mean no offense, and that my sister shall be too if you truly do marry her.” He was trying to behave like Daehyun, or a more rational version of Daehyun, but beyond his facade, it was so painfully clear that Yejun was afraid, and simply wished to keep himself in the best position to be informed.

“Then you and Minwoo shall stay with me,” agreed Jongup. And so, the family of eleven who rarely spent more than daylight hours apart from one another were faced with a new and lonely world, one much more uncertain than ever before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls comment (or hmu on twitter/tumblr)!!~~~ It motivates me a lot!


	10. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I miss rolling down mountainsides as a child...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism welcome!
> 
> (my twitter is @chuuwonnie ive started talking about my fanfics more on there including this story just fyi)

End Of Part 1

The room was cool but not cold and under the blankets it was warm and comfortable. The world felt still and slow except for soft snores nearby as Yongguk opened his eyes to a familiar room, yet unfamiliar in an eerie way. 

He had never been one to sit up quickly after a long nap, but in this case he had, startled and confused as to how he had gotten there. Beside him, a boy was sitting in one of his sitting room chairs with a napping toddler in his arms. Light from the early morning streamed in from the window as the boy stared at him with shock for a long moment, and then turned his head off towards the sitting room to cry out, “Your Majesty!” His words continued, but they were no longer in Uslili. Why was there an Avoshi boy and a toddler sitting by his bedside? 

Wait.

How was he even in his own bed?

“Jongup? Himchan?” Yongguk called out in confusion, only to be startled by the hoarseness of his own voice. He was shook by a coughing fit and the boy came to rub his back as the toddler stirred in his arms. The boy started to wince in pain but we was quiet about it, as if his hands were burning but he was trying to hide that from Yongguk. They weren’t prisoners, were they? If his father had forced Avoshi children into servitude he would be put in a fit of rage. He could already feel it brewing. “Do you speak Uslili?” Yongguk asked once his coughing had subsided.

“A little. Not much. Very bad,” replied the young boy. “King comes,” he concluded with a wave to the door.

“What is your name?” Yongguk asked.

The boy stared at him in confusion for a long moment. “My name?” he asked. Yongguk nodded, and thought maybe he might need to explain, but the boy with great awkwardness replied, “Yejun,” as if he could not see why Yongguk was asking.

That would be just like his father then, to force to boys into labor without ever asking their names. No one had likely spoken to these boys beyond giving them orders in… in, well, however long he had been asleep. “And the little one?” He gestured to the yet awaking toddler, who was whining but quiet in his fussing. “Does he yet have a name?”

“Minwoo,” said Yejun, still quiet, unsure, and confused. 

“I wonder if you’ll understand. How old are you? How many years do you have? And Minwoo?” Yongguk asked. He noticed something yet more peculiar. Yejun was becoming increasing disturbed with his questions. There was almost a sort of panic in his eyes.

“I’m twelve. He’s three,” said Yejun. He spoke to the little fussy boy in what Yongguk assumed was Avoshi once again, and with a very sleepy nod from Minwoo, Yejun offered the boy for Yongguk to hold. What a strange thing for a servant to do. 

Yongguk took Minwoo regardless and held him close. Something about the two of them felt familiar, yet he was sure he had never met them before.

Finally, Jongup rushed in. At first, Yongguk had thought he had simply beat their father there, but as Jongup panted in the doorway and Yejun spoke to him in dismay in Avoshi, Yongguk noticed something indeed was very strange. His brother looked older, not the boy Yongguk knew from before but rather now a man in early adulthood. 

Worse yet, Jongup had their father’s crown on his head.

“Jongup,” Yongguk called for him with confusion, “why do you wear father’s crown? Has he yet passed away? And when did we return to the castle? This cannot be the Avoshi capital, it resembles my room in Usli too well. How long have I been asleep?”

The expression on Jongup’s face was only dismay. “Brother, please do not tease me in this way. Please do not pretend. ‘Tis been a hard enough month with your illness, don’t tease me so.”

“I am not teasing,” replied Yongguk with uncertainty. “Have I truly been asleep for a month? And father, I assume, passed during that time?”

“Father has been dead for five years,” murmured Jongup. “Do you truly remember nothing of them at all? ‘Tis not like you were asleep then. You had been here with me through all of it, from the scheming we had done to force your crown in my hands to the inauguration. You remember these children not?”

“They are not my own, are they?” Yongguk asked in fear.

“No, no they are the siblings of…” Jongup trailed off. He and Yejun spoke in Avoshi again for a long moment. It was then Yongguk noted the long, bloodied gloves covering Yejun’s hands and arms. “They are the siblings of my fiancée.”

“I thought the Princess of Amara had no siblings,” said Yongguk.

“The now Queen of Amara does not, nor does she have a fiancé. She is married to a young noblewoman after we had mutually ended our arrangement. ‘Tis been years since then and you were with me as it happened. Do you remember not? Do you remember not silencing the beating drums of war before I could act rashly? And my now fiancée, Yubin, you remember her and her siblings not?” Jongup sounded as though he was pleading.

“I remember none of it at all,” Yongguk confirmed softly. “What has happened to the boy to make him bleed so?” 

Jongup looked to Yejun and found his gloves were soaking now with blood. Yejun too seemed surprised and the two conversed for a long moment before either offered any information at all. “He has a rash there. ‘Tis not contagious. Until now, ‘twas not anything to worry over, either. It had not worsened until…” Jongup had gone silent as he helped Yejun pull the gloves off.

Yongguk let out a small, distressed yelp at the bloody scales there. “Does it hurt him not?” He asked.

A translation was put through and Yejun replied in his simple Uslili with, “no. Nothing. No.”

“Is he sure?” Yongguk demanded, grabbing Yejun’s arm. Yejun screamed out in pain suddenly. He collapsed down on the ground with only his arm up in the air in Yongguk’s grip. Yongguk quickly dropped it, but found no blood on his hands, and no more scales on Yejun’s arms.

Yejun, once able to move again, stared at his arm with confusion. The rash had healed completely. His other arm, despite not having been touched, had healed as well. 

There was an excited conversation between he and Jongup. Minwoo, still in Yongguk’s arms, was cheering along with them and clapping his hands. When Yongguk did not clap as well, little Minwoo demanded at him, and forced Yongguk’s hands to clap, though luckily he only laughed in response. “Oh, so it all had been worth it!” Jongup cheered to himself rather than Yongguk. He seemed relieved as he turned to his brother. “We shall have to bring you to little Miss Minyoung and Miss Yuri as soon as possible, once Youngjae arrives we shall go.”

“Youngjae?” Yongguk asked. “The Yoo boy is still here? You’ve kept him as a prisoner this whole time?”

“He’s here because he likes it here,” replied Jongup with offense. “He and Junhong have become some of my top advisors on foreign matters. They were barely prisoners for two weeks after father died. The moment we stepped foot in the Capital they were free and all was well.”

“You must catch me up, brother, for I am lost,” Yongguk admitted. “And why did the boy become healed when I touched him? What even is this illness of his?”

“‘Tis… ‘tis part of the story I suppose. We shall have to go through it then, I have no certainty as to where you memories have gone nor how long it shall be until they return to you,” said Jongup. “The only issue is that I won’t be able to say your brother’s name,” he said to Yejun, and then realizing his mistake, repeated himself in Avoshi.

“And why can’t you?” said Yongguk.

“Well, for the most part, you shall have to listen to my tale to know, yet I shall give a short answer: because even that shall be enough to fling you into hateful rage. I know you shall think that sounds nothing of you, but we know it to be true,” said Jongup. “I should be more upset, but even to have you awake is a great joy, I swear it.”

They waited for Youngjae to arrive before they settled in for the story. Servants had brought more chairs into the room, and Jongup and Yejun had sat and spoke to one another in Avoshi while they waited. Yet it was not one empty chair, but three. When Youngjae arrived he looked well. No longer the scrawny, malnourished looking boy who had kicked and screamed and fought even when he had been promised his life, instead it seemed he was more comfortable in his place, though he was hesitant around Yongguk. A pair of girls, one in her teenage years and the other in mid-childhood, followed after him, each embracing Yejun before they settled in their respective chairs.

“Youngjae, you seem much better than how I remember you. And what children are these?” Yongguk asked. Jongup quickly spoke in Avoshi, and all three newcomers’ faces fell. There was some stirred excitement about Yejun’s arms, but it seemed they seemed more focused on Yongguk with their constant looks to him.

“Well, that might be because Jongup allows me to eat and sleep enough each day regardless of whether I’ve ‘done enough work to deserve it’, unlike my father.” Upon seeing the horrified shock on Yongguk’s face, Youngjae sighed. “It’s true then, he really can’t remember. I… suppose we must… catch him up on the past five years of his life. We should be careful of speaking of Yejun’s brother, it’s lucky that Minwoo is yet too tired to be babbling.”

“My name is Yewon,” the older of the two girls said as Youngjae was on his nervous rant to Jongup. Her Uslili was accented, but much more well done than her brother’s. “This is Yeeun, my sister.” She motioned to the girl next to her. “She is ten years old tomorrow. I am fourteen. Yejun is my brother.”

“How many siblings do you have?” Yongguk asked. Four in one room, plus Jongup’s fiancée was quite a good deal, was it not?

“We are eleven sib… siblin… eleven brothers and sisters. There are 4 brothers and there are 7 sisters.” As she spoke more it became clear her Uslili was not perfect, yet she was much better at it than her brother had been. Perhaps language learning was simply one of her strong suits. 

“And your parents?” He asked her.

Her face fell. “Gone,” was her answer. “You don’t remember us?”

“Not in the slightest.” She didn’t understand. “I don’t,” he simplified.

“I don’t understand,” she said softly. “This is… not usual. Strange. Odd. Understand? Not usual. You are sick no more… yet… strange, strange, strange. Youngjae,” she switched to Avoshi, he thought, when she spoke to Youngjae, who responded in an equally unsure fashion.  Jongup and Yejun had quickly joined the conversation, while Yeeun got bored and started to bounce around in her chair.

A shout from Youngjae brought in Junhong, so much taller than Yongguk remembered him that he gasped. If both merchant boys were no longer small and scrawny, it made much more sense that five years had truly passed. Yeeun was excited to run to him, calling out ‘Amim, Amim’ over and over before she tried climbing up him. He laughed, picked her up, and carried her out the room. Junhong called over his shoulder in Aiyuni as he left.

“He’ll take her to play with Yerim and Yuna,” said Youngjae to Jongup. “We should, I suppose, just tell him our tale for the time being, and find a solution to the matter once he is more secure in reality.”

“Indeed,” agreed Jongup. “So then, Yongguk, a quick summary: you rode off into the woods in the Avoshi province of Ipa five years ago. I followed, but we lost you along the way. You had come upon a large lake in the valley of the mountains there, nestled deep within the forest, and… Their brother had been there, along with Yejun. They had been fishing.” He looked to the others with uncertainty.

“We are Sirens,” Yejun did not hesitate.

“Is he joking or mistranslating?” Yongguk asked.

Yewon sighed and scolded Yejun softly before she explained in Uslili. “We sing and there is magic. Fish jump into the boat. Animals come and follow. Plants grow. People heal.” She thinned her lips. “There is a bad song. The bad song… people fall in love… bad.”

“The original Siren’s Song, entitled  _ The Siren to the Sailor _ ,” said Youngjae, “has the power to make the listener fall in love, however it is also a curse. It allows for a baby Siren to grow in the heart of the cursed, all while driving them mad. These people… don’t sing this song ever, except when there are only sirens around. Between people with siren blood, it has no effect. It is simply an affectionate song. Yejun, at a very young age, had liked when his brother sang it. You, unfortunately, heard him, and were cursed without anyone’s knowledge.”

“This is ridiculous,” said Yongguk. “Certainly this is all a jest.”

Jongup spoke next. “We are the children of the moon and the Great Blue Dragon, they are the children of the sea and sailor. ‘Tis no jest, as much as we wish it to be. I had caught up to you with Himchan and the merchants at some point, before or after the song I do not know. You’d been listening to them for a short while already, and when we’d come upon you, you had given me your broach to wear and told me to take Father’s place when he died. You wished to stay and listen to the sirens sing longer, and knowing nothing of what they were we had left you there to do so. You had tried to follow them home as you had lost your way back to camp. By your own reports you had lost them and come upon the house separately by the guide of a ‘forest nymph’s song’, their older sister singing to the chickens, I think.”

Yongguk could hear it, suddenly, the tune of a young girl calling him through the woods, his horse’s hooves against the rough ground, and the wind that curled around him with the tune. “Yerim,” he whispered.

There was a great deal of excitement in his naming of her. Everything was so green when he closed his eyes, struck by the waning light of the afternoon. “Yes, yes! Yerim! Yerim sings to the hens. Yerim sees you… very afraid,” agreed Yewon. “You come to our house. You are tired. Mom gives you food and tea. You stay the night. My brother… was? Was very happy. He thinks you like him. At morning, Father takes you back to Usli men.”

“From there, Father passed. We had a plot of sorts to make it seem as though he had willed me you birthright as his dying wish, though really you had simply asked me to take your place. You had grown obsessed with finding their family again, over the months it grew until I had sent Youngjae out to search for them. Three times he went to Ipa, always returning empty-handed. You had grown despondent and ill over that time, and after the passing of five years you were so melancholy and sickly that you seldom left your quarters, and almost never left your bed. It was a struggle to convince you to eat or bathe, and it seemed as though in many ways you were physically ill with heartbreak. I, at the end of my line, had decided to try another means of finding your supposed lost love. I set a contest into place and, under the guise that we were searching for an Avoshi commoner to marry the Prince, had set out to entice him to come forward.”

Youngjae continued. “We found him in Ipa with his sister, both of whom had entered the contest. From there we had brought them all to the Capital under the guise of the contest. ‘Twas, from what I heard, a struggle to convince you to get out of bed long enough yet to find them, yet you had, and once again, you had.”

They both went silent, unsure of how to continue. It was minutes before Jongup spoke again. “‘Twas happy for yet a month. In that time, I had fallen for the next eldest of the lot of them, my lovely Yubin. But you seemed stranger by the day, and their siblings grew ill. Yejun, for one, his twin sister Yuri, and a child of only two years, Minyoung, were all afflicted with the scaly rash you had seen before. It’s a sort of illness cursed upon their people by time and circumstance, of the sort that’s passed by inheritance but not by touch nor air. I was told it was terribly painful, and once the full body is covered in scales, as little Minyoung is, a tortuous phase begins that always ends in death. They had tried many times to sing the affliction away, however it would not work unless the singer were to rip out their own heart, so to speak. To do something so painful as to show their commitment to the sacrifice.” He turned to speak to Yewon in Avoshi. Yongguk assumed he was making sure he had his information straight.

“My brother loves you,” said Yewon softly, and Yongguk assumed the present tense was only put forth so because she had yet to learn past.

Youngjae spoke next. “It came to be that he, the Siren, had to choose between the lives of his siblings or your affections. He chose to sacrifice your love of him for their lives, as the youngest was nearing a painful death. Yet as he prepared to sing for you, it came to be… that we together, he and I, discovered your illness with the Siren’s Song. To sing  _ Amarim _ to you, the song which would rip his heart out by forcing you to lose interest in him, he would instead cause you to despise him with your entire being. Rather than the prescribed nonchalance, he would be instilling a great sense of disdain in you which was truly the most painful thought to him of all, save losing his siblings. So is the results of someone afflicted by a Siren hearing  _ Amarim _ . He chose to sing then, not just for his siblings health, but for your own. To leave you afflicted with the siren would certainly kill you, at the very least, and he could not bear your pain, even if it meant you were to hate him.”

“I cannot hate anyone,” said Yongguk. “‘Tis not in my nature to feel such heartless things. I am certain I wouldn’t hate him.”

“And yet, if you were to see him, if you were to even hear his name, you would likely be filled with rage. ‘Tis simply the works of a magic song. Your character is no matter in this situation. He killed the Siren in your heart, but you were ill for a month, either raving or unconscious, until you woke up now,” said Youngjae.

Jongup ran his hand over his face. “I will admit I have no sense without you, brother, for this tale does not end with you and your siren. He had discovered then a ruse we put into place, hiding our identities from him. I know it is unwise to lie in such a way, and indeed his betrayal showed as he cursed me and forbid me from marrying his sister. I… acted rashly. I am ashamed to admit it and torn up inside over the matter. I had him confined to a private quarter, and Yubin to another. I divided their siblings up from there, in pairs such that none would be alone. That is why Yejun and Minwoo are here with me, and why Yewon and Yeeun came with the merchants. My love is still cross with me over the matter, and I’m absolutely torn up over it. I know we shall persevere, as we have both put in every effort to listen to one another and fully understand each other’s thoughts, yet to know I have hurt her at all is a torture I cannot bear. I need you to heal, Yongguk. You are meant to be the North Star, and I cannot lead without your guidance. That is the story in full.”

“Shall you not tell me more of this Siren?” asked Yongguk. He was fixated. “I know nothing of him at all.”

“I cannot tell you even a whisper of him more,” replied Jongup.

“But why can you not tell me his name? In the very least, just the name of my Siren?” Yongguk begged.

“Have you not listened to a word of this tale?” Jongup replied sullenly. “Has none of of it registered with you at all? You shall go raving mad if you hear it. You shall scream and fight and demand for his death. Must I tell it all again? A story told twice is boring, don’t you think?” His brother’s words turned harsh with his stress, but Yongguk was used to such things.

“Perhaps if you tell it to me backwards,” he said in jest.

In fairness, Jongup did chuckle at that. His face brightened upon seeing his brother less serious and once again able to joke and jest. “If I were to do such a thing I fear I’d forget all the details. It would become quite messy, don’t you think?” He chuckled for a moment longer, then looked back behind him at Youngjae’s translation of their conversation to Yejun. Jongup’s face fell once again. “I shall try it, but allow me a brief leave first, so that I might talk to Youngjae about the situation.”

With Yongguk’s agreement, Jongup spoke to the two boys in Avoshi. He and Youngjae stepped out of the room, while Yejun came to take Minwoo from him and once again sit in the chair by his bedside. Yejun whispered a song to the little boy, who slowly fell back to sleep in his arms. Yongguk, too, feeling quite tired, laid down on his bed to rest his eyes as he waited for Jongup to return to him. 

“I do not know what illness this is,” he heard softly through the door. Jongup’s pleadings for answers had yet found a moment of pause despite the confessed lack of knowledge until it came to be said, “I suppose I would suggest you ask Daehyun.”

In the back of his mind he could hear a soft tune mounting like the beat of war drums.

Beginning of Part 2


	11. 9. Over The Morning Dew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two looked out at the sullen world together, both feeling as though it didn’t fit at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment~~ :D Sorry for the delay!

With the sun low in the sky and steadily rising, on the patio that barely rose above the sea of dewy grass, Jongup came to join his ward. The mist laid low and mystical, but the air was cool and the two were tired from waking. He had grown fond of Yejun over the month he had cared for him, and the two stood in a comfortable silence until the delicate colors of the sunrise faded to a simple baby blue.

“I shall miss having you with me,” Jongup admitted without hesitation. The moment the urge struck to acknowledge the truth of the matter, he simply had.

“You say that as though you shan’t see me again, Your Majesty,” Yejun replied. “Are Minwoo and I being sent somewhere? Or… are all of us?” He sounded nervous. “I’ll apologize to you, Sir, if it is something I have done, and if it is Yongguk’s state, then we can certainly work to find—”

“You and your twin are the only pair fit to rule any country,” Jongup laughed. “She has all the intelligence and good sense in the world and you have all the diplomacy. If you were to have Yewon as your translator, the world would easily be yours.” He patted Yejun’s head affectionately. “I shan’t send any of you away, you should know better than to suspect such a thing. However, I came to a compromise with Yubin and Daehyun long ago and I intend to honor it. This arrangement was only to continue until Yongguk awoke.”

“So after a long month we shall all be together again?” Yejun asked.

“You almost sound unhappy,” Jongup’s words came out much more as a question than a statement and he turned to the twelve-year-old boy with concern. “Is there something wrong? Or some reason why you should not want to return to your family?”

“Nothing of the sort, Sir, I just… I quite liked being an observer in your duties and spending the day as your ward. In the early mornings and evenings, I’ll admit I missed them dearly, but during the height of the day I was so very excited by the functions of government and the Court that I seldom thought of anything else. Will I still have my lessons, Sir? I was so very fond of them. I shan’t slack off in any subject if you shall allow me them,” Yejun begged.

Jongup laughed and once again pat his head, “you’re an odd child, Yejunnie. All of your family seems to have such an appetite for education, really. However, of course I shan’t cancel your lessons. I hoped, in fact, if your interest was there, that I might request them at more frequency, or allow you to pick new fields of study beyond language, swordplay, letters, and history. Your twin has begun to devour books on every subject she is yet able to read and I came to wonder if you wouldn’t enjoy the same sort of eclectic education. As for your affection for observing my duties, I would not be opposed to you and Yuri joining me at times, when you are not meant to be studying. You ought not have any worries of me truly casting you away, unless you grow taller than me.” He nudged Yejun with a smile.

Yejun responded by standing on his toes to try to match Jongup’s height, and the pair laughed. “Thank you, Sir, I’m so very happy. To stay with my siblings but spend my days studying or in observation would truly be a dream.”

There was a brief and comfortable silence between them. “Yubin and Daehyun should be arriving here in good time,” said Jongup softly. “Yuri will likely come along, so if you’d like to run off with her, I shan’t oppose it. I remember you mentioned there was a story you’d like to tell her, and I imagine the conversation between your siblings and I won’t be particularly engaging. I suppose after you shall simply return to your original wing.”

“So all shall be as it was before,” Yejun said.

“All but Yongguk,” Jongup agreed. “Yet, you’ve seen for yourself despite his memory gone and his heart filled with hate, he has yet to hold himself differently, yet to act in a way that I would think not to be him. All shall be well, still. Perhaps more good has come from all of this than bad.”

“I see more good than bad in the dreary morning light, Sir. Your Avoshi has even grown quicker,” conceded Yejun. “Though your accent is still strange.”

“If you tease me I shall lock you away,” replied Jongup in a teasing tone. Yejun snorted. 

“In a high tower? With a dragon as my guard? Leave me to sing for freedom until some strong lass steals armor and a sword, kills my keeper, and scales the tower to save me?” He laughed. “Minwoo shall be delighted to hear your plans. It’s his favorite story.”

“He will likely ask to be the dragon,” Jongup agreed. “Most men I know would rather fight a dragon than argue with a toddler like either of your brothers.”

“Which is precisely why it shall be no man, but a lass to save me,” replied Yejun. “If… If you do find a way to marry our Binnie… would that raise my own status enough that I could marry a young knighted girl when I’m older?” His face turned a little red.

“You’ve reached that age, then,” Jongup laughed. “When you’re older, we’ll find you a nice knight, I swear it. I know of a few squire girls currently your own age.”

“What does it have to do with my age, Sir?”

“You are twelve, half to thirteen, are you not?” A low breeze picked up moisture and cold air from the grass and chilled them with it as Yejun nodded. “You are precisely at the age where many, not all, but many, become quite entranced with the concept of love, and the loves they might have in the future. Admittedly, when I was your age, I was much more focused on mastering chess and sneaking out of the castle to go swimming. Binnie is something quite unusual to me.”

“I am sure she’d be quite delighted to hear that, Sir. I can’t say she’s never had interest herself, as I’m not her, but from arguments she’s had with our late parents, I’d assume her affections for you are quite unusual for her as well,” said Yejun.

“What arguments?”

“There was perhaps thrice that one of our late parents would suggest one of the Ipparim boys from the surrounding hills found her quite fetching and she would always respond with finality that she had no interest, which irked them.”

Jongup had time to smile, but not to respond, before a call from behind them came.

“Yejun!” The loudest they ever heard Yuri’s voice was when she was calling out to her twin when they’d meet. What was rarely more than a day of separation seemed to be the equivalent of years in their eyes, each time they’d meet they’d run together and embrace.

“Go off then,” Jongup nodded. “I shall send someone to pick you both up at the koi pond by noon, alright? Be prompt in meeting them there, your lessons are still set for the afternoon.”

Yejun gave an enthusiastic, “yes, Sir,” before he ran off to his sister.

Yubin had been following after her, he supposed she must’ve requested to stay the night with her rather than Daehyun, who was usually in charge of her care. “My dear,” he breathed warmly as she approached. “This gloomy morning brings the brightest of futures, I swear it. Yongguk is awake, Yejun was healed at his touch, and while his memories since meeting Daehyun are vanished he is—”

“What was that of his memories?” Yubin demanded.

“All are gone,” replied Jongup. “When he woke he still believe our father was alive. He had no memories of my coronation, of you or your siblings, not even of Youngjae and Junhong’s confessions of their lives before their capturing, something he had sworn he could never forget.”

“That’s… well, I would say ‘tis strange but I honestly don’t know. We may think we know all on this matter, but the truth is such a situation has not occured within our lifetimes. We only know us the tales Gran’ma told us of her own great gran’ma. Perhaps ‘tis absolutely ordinary, the same as the oddity around my siblings illness…. I’ll admit, my love, I no longer know what is going on, nor what is going to happen next. I hope, truly, his amnesia is a normal symptom.”

“But you can offer no certain comfort that it’s so,” Jongup agreed with melancholy. “‘Tis all what it is, and there is not a thing left to change it. The problem comes more in his demands than his memories.”

“His demands?” Yubin asked.

“When he awoke it was as if he remembered not a whisper of Daehyun, but since then… well… he has been demanding an audience with him. He now feels the hatred imbued in his heart and understanding wholeheartedly how uncharacteristic ‘tis of himself, he has made his mind up that the only solution is for him to meet the object of his hate such that he can find a justification for it. I don’t know what he think he’ll find, but to keep him away seems an impossible task.”

“And to allow him close might very well end Daehyun’s life,” replied Yubin. “‘Tis not a possibility, you shall have to ward him ‘way from his misguided plans, love.”

“Is there no way? No amount of guards nor security that might allow them to meet without horror? He is not the weakest in the world, but not the strongest either. I do have an army at my disposal, dear, and his will is the only thing I cannot change.”

“An army might be excessive, he shan’t grow inhuman in his rage, yet… Love, ‘tis foolish to suggest such a thing. We know he shall be filled with endless hatred and unbridled rage towards my brother, there is no reason to allow him near. Can you not persuade him against it? Can you not simply avoid the matter until he gives in and forgets? Certainly, if nothing else, simply ignoring him should do, should it not?” Yubin suggested.

Jongup shook his head and turned back towards the grassy lake of dew, staring out at it with a sort of defeat. “He shall find his way to that room with or without my consent, Binnie, and that is where my fear lies. He is still confined to his bed for to-day, but that is the only thing that keeps him from hunting your brother down. When he wishes to be, he’s quite stubborn.”

Yubing came up beside him to stare at the morning rays beginning to wash over the gardens. “If he is to go, it is better that he does so with your knowledge and your guards in place. If you truly believe he shall sneak out and search on his own so persistently until his goal is met — well, Daehyun shall have to agree, but in my mind a team of guards to drag him away should do well. Junhong, as well, if possible.”

“Not Youngjae?” Jongup asked. “He seems more knowledgeable on the matter, as a neighbor to your province.”

“Youngjae has too much sense about him. If he hears of this plan he shall reject it in an instant and refuse to take part. Junhong knows not enough to disagree, and thus will be there to translate with less stigma towards the situation at hand,” explained Binnie.

“Very well then. Daehyun shall be here soon, and if he agrees to it, we shall send Yongguk, Junhong, and guards his way this afternoon to see if we can quiet Yongguk’s demanding mind. I’ll be sure to clear the guards to remove him the moment there seems to be an issue at hand,” Jongup agreed. “Ah, speak of the Devil.” He nodded behind them, to where Daehyun was fast approaching.

He came up to rest between them, separating the two with a warm ‘good morning’. “Well, Your Majesty, it seems all has flipped on its head, and we are to return now, step by step.” There was a sort of cheeriness in his voice. “This means all is well then, I suppose?”

“All is well but the matter of my brother,” Jongup agreed. “He has demanded unilaterally to meet you, and I cannot convince him otherwise. Would it, perchance, be possible to send him, with guards for your protection, to your quarters this afternoon? If you were to meet him, once, for just a moment, I believe it shall be enough to convince him to stay away, but as the situation stands currently, I fear there is no convincing him.”

Daehyun’s face fell. “It should rot my own heart to see him hate me so, Your Majesty. I’m not sure I could bear it. Is there no means of avoiding the matter?”

Jongup shook his head and replied, “I think he would sooner create an elaborate plot to sneak into your room when I wasn’t watching then allow for the situation to stand without an answer as to what illness truly affects his heart. His memories have been wiped, you see. There is nothing of his life since meeting you, even in the long moments you were parted. With no memories, he is the same stubbornly moral man he had been in his early twenties, unable to step back and process the chance that he might be wrong.”

“His memories are gone?!” Daehyun exclaimed. “What? How? Why?”

“We know not why. No one has offered an answer, other than that we do not understand the song you sung well. It’s lyrics are untranslatable according to your siblings. It’s usage, unseen in the past hundred years, according to our Binnie. As much as I worry, I’d like to dare the hope that perhaps, indeed, this is simply a symptom lost in between the lines of your spellbooks.”

“We have no spellbooks,” Daehyun countered.

“‘Twas but a jest,” Jongup tried to assure. “I understand your feelings towards me are still quite harsh, but if you could do me one favor and one alone, ‘twould be that you meet with him, just once, to quiet him for good on the matter.”

“I’d almost think this a plot to kill me so Binnie might be yours,” Daehyun grumbled, clearly not unhappy with Jongup, but rather the deadly prospect of re-meeting his lost love.

“If you were to die in this meeting I would take the others and leave, that I swear,” Yubin promised, “but you must stop with your extravagant conspiracy theories, Hyunnie, and listen to reason instead. There shall be guards to protect you. It shall likely only take a moment for him to understand that ‘tis nothing natural nestling hate in his head, then he shall leave you be. Agree to it and the matter shall be over, and we all back together by the end of the day.”

“Shan’t we be together regardless of whether or not I meet him?” Daehyun countered. 

Yubin froze, thought, and replied, “no, we shan’t. This is an unavoidable matter. Either you settle your debts in a safe manner and we all move on, or you drag this on and risk your own life at his unreasonable and devious acts. I shan’t let you kill yourself, nor harm the rest of us. We shall stay apart until you meet him.”

“Please don’t make be do this, Binnie. Please don’t hurt me so.” He was begging, then. “The thought of him has me sick in the heart, please just let me be free of him to recover. I’ll take my leave of the Capital, if that is what’s needed to escape him. I can’t meet with him again. I can’t. I can’t stand the thought of those eyes that once gazed at me with kindness now only filled with hate. Please don’t make me face my mistakes. Have I not hurt enough?”

Yubin resigned, still not the happiest with the plan, and for a long moment it was silent between the three as each tried to find a way to avoid the situation at hand.

“There is no way around this, is there?” Yubin asked Jongup in a soft tone. “He had the will to search for us for five long years when the illness should have left him braindead in that span, according to Youngjae’s book. He will likely disobey you, if you were to tell him no. And in doing so he would either endanger himself, or more likely, Daehyunnie, you would likely fall as a victim of his ignorance to the illness in his heart. If you were to leave, well…”

“He would follow,” Jongup sighed, “and those Avoshi that now suspect you as Sirens and harbor hate for you despite my decree will, without doubt, catch wind of the matter and direct him on Daehyun’s trail. If he were to get to you and publicly display his disdain, or worse yet, end you, they would not see it as a scorned lover but rather a sign of something dastardly and cursed by your hands, some sort of indication that your kind cannot be trusted, perhaps even going so far as to put my own reign and the peace of our lands at risk. Right now, the movement against me is limited to Ipa, and better yet the Lord there has done well to lock away any who speak too harshly on the matter, but if there were to be any incident to give the rebelling bigots backing, despite its true reasoning, the situation would change dramatically.”

“And so, it has to be,” Yubin murmured. “Hyunnie, dear brother, I’m sorry, but you must. And if you deny it once more I shall threaten you with something quite serious.”

“Threaten me then,” Daehyun replied, unperturbed.

“If you shan’t meet him by the afternoon’s end, then by the evening I shall have made myself the Usli King’s concubine, and you know well that is a deed that cannot be undone,” Yubin threatened. Jongup, with quite a red face, cleared his throat and turned away from the two.

Daehyun sighed a deep, defeated sigh, “you, truly, Binnie, wish to torture me, do you not? Fine, I shall meet him and my death then, this afternoon as you wish. And if I should survive it, all shall be well and we shall leave this wretched place. Clearly, you’ve lost all sense or he has driven you mad. I shall meet him and then we shall leave, before you have the chance to do something so foolish.”

“We shan’t,” Binnie asserted. “‘Tis not the Avoshi Prince that stands before you, ‘tis not the same sort of man. He has had no concubine, has no strings to him, and has no devious plots at hand. I am sick of your determination to choose the path my own life takes. If you leave the Capital, it shall be without me, for I shall marry him regardless.”

Daehyun shot a glaring look at Jongup, but his shoulders had slumped. “Wait, at least. Give me time to accept this horrid idea.”

Both Jongup and Binnie brightened like the sun in the sky at their begrudged victory. “I shall prove to you, I swear it, Daehyun, that I am worthy of her,” promised Jongup with a quiet enthusiasm. “I’ve heard now of all the horrors of the Avoshi royalty from my advisors and I swear I could never harm her in that or any way at all. I promise you, you shan’t regret this.”

“I already am.” Admittedly it was said mostly in jest. “If any harm comes to my sister at your hand, I shall do the same to you. If any deepset hurt is put upon her, I shall make you feel the same. If you prove to be the same as they were, if you tire of and abandon her, send her to the dungeons simply because you’ve found someone new—”

“I shan’t,” swore Jongup.

“If you do to her as was done to our dear cousins Yerim, Yewon, and Yeeun, I shall end you and everything you love,” Daehyun swore.

“Ye… Yerim?” Jongup asked, with quiet confusion, to Yubin.

“‘Tis a tradition of our people to name children after those recently lost. Only the Yu- children in our family bear unique names. The rest are born on graves,” Yubin replied softly while Daehyun sulked off to the side. “The next boy is to be named after our father, when he comes.”

“I had not realized your cousins had been amongst the victims,” mumbled Jongup.

“Three of them, yes. And now at twenty, I have outlived all three in years… The youngest was barely older than Yewon when she was taken. I told you there was reason behind his stubbornness.”

“I am not the same sort,” promised Jongup.

“So said the Avoshi Prince in reference to his father when he came of age, and yet his score was worse than his father’s,” said Yubin sadly. “Always us, the poor and unfortunate with nothing to our names, seized and sold for the political gain of the Lords of our province. ‘Tis the common folk’s suffering that becomes the currency of the rich and powerful, is it not? All the gold in the world is backed by the sufferings of those that fetched it. Your food is worth only as much as the broken backs of the peasants who farmed it. It has always been this way: our suffering is your gain whether you realize or not— whether or not you intend it to be so, whether or not you believe it to be wrong, whether or not you acknowledge it. The way we were brought here, this contest, just seemed like a less violent version of the same old game.”

“And yet you volunteered?” Jongup asked.

“I would marry the Avoshi King, three times my age when he died, a hundred times over and change if it meant only that my siblings would not starve,” replied Yubin. “And Daehyun shall remain cross on the matter so long as he sees our union as one and the same. ‘Tis not, and yet, ‘tis hard to be certain of its difference.”

“Then I shall do everything in my power to prove myself to the both of you,” Jongup swore.

“And I shall do everything to prepare myself for the pain your brother is about to put me through, replied Daehyun sullenly. “I shall wait for him them.”


	12. 10. Ami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a drumming noise inside my head that starts when you're around  
> I swear that you could hear it; it makes such an almighty sound  
> -Drumming Song, Florence & The Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment please~ They really make my day ^^ hehe see you again next week hopefully :D

“Do you think poorly of me?” The question came in the silence of a warmly lit room, over a dark wood coffee table with tea between them.

“Why would I?” Junhong’s reply came. “Whether you remember the minutiae of my life or none of it at all, whether you hate one man or one hundred, are you not still the one who saved us, defended us, and gave us a new home? Are you not the one who talked your brother down from war with my home, and in doing so saved my life again? Even if you do not remember, are you not still yourself?”

“Am I?” Yongguk countered. “Am I still the same Yongguk, even with this… quiet rage captured inside me, flaring up at random at the thought of…” he shivered, refusing to even give a pronoun to the source of his hate.

“You’re still you, Sir, and you always shall be. The content of your character may grow or develop, whether for better or worse, and yet through it all, it shall still be you sitting across from me. Whether you remember Youngjae and I well enough or not, you are still the man you were. You are still our Yongguk.” He leaned back and fiddled with his fingers. To call Yongguk by his first name was at the moment in his own present day an entirely average and unremarkable thing to do. He still held immense amounts of respect for him, yet their speech towards one another had grown more affectionate and casual over the years.

To face instead a Yongguk who barely remembered him beyond the boat and address him the same way was almost uncomfortable or awkward.

Yet, Yongguk smiled. “One of my most recent memories, before the blankness of the passed five years, is of you. I think it is the last thing I remember, besides perhaps a young girl’s song, which haunts my dreams.”

“Of what are your dreams?” Junhong egged on. “I had not known you had yet time to dream at all. Are the consistent?”

“‘Tis my only memory from the time I was ill, it came to me earlier today— after everyone had left I had slept again and heard her. I feel as though I’ve dreamt that dream a thousand times, my horse chasing through an endless forest on the tail of a tune calling me forwards, not from love but curiosity, and when I finally stumble through and fall from my horse, I see her. A young girl, terrified, her song ended, and I try to grab onto her, to beg her for help for I’ve realized my head is gone, yet it ended there.”

“What a strange dream. I suppose it means nothing at all, although you had always said the only way to find that family was through the wood nymph’s song. From what we understand you mean Yerim’s ‘Calling Song’, which is some little wordless thing she sings when she wishes for animals to gather ‘round her. Perhaps I ought to tell her and see what she thinks of it” remarked Junhong.

“Perhaps so,” agreed Yongguk. “I’d quite like to hear that song in consciousness, if such a thing could be arranged. I barely remember a thing about it while I’m awake. It skirts around the edges of my mind yet the tune eludes me.”

“I shall tell her of it then,” promised Junhong. “And what of your memory of me?”

“‘Tis not a pleasant one,” replied Yongguk.

“And yet all my scars have healed.”

“‘Tis you, when I had found you. Down on the lowest deck with soaked clothing and a chain ‘round your ankle, so small and skinny that I thought I might break you if I helped you stand. I had thought, perhaps, you would still try to attack me when I released you, yet you only whispered some Amarim word and collapsed. As I carried you, Jongup met me on the stairs, and we two together brought you to Youngjae in hopes he with his sea-legs would know how to heal you.”

“And when he met us, he had cursed at me in Aiyuni until I went dizzy, at which point he translated his cursing into Amarim to make sure I understood,” laughed Junhong. “‘Twas interesting listening to you and Jongup convince him not to let me waste away.”

“Had he resisted?” Yongguk asked, his brows furrowed. 

“Of course he had. He doesn’t really like nor trust Amarim for some reason… I know not why, but perhaps I’m lucky I’ve become the exception. You know, he used to call me ‘Amim’, for a full year after we met and never my name in its place, and with his tone of voice I had almost thought it an insult. Yet now, some of Ipparim children, the ones you met upon waking— some of them call me that too, so I’m lost for its meaning all together.”

“I know not what it means myself,” replied Yongguk. “Then again, I sometimes think I seldom speak Uslili, and to add any other language to my register would leave me without any speech at all.”

There was a long silence between the two, and Junhong found himself staring at his loose reflection in the mirror and wondering how Yongguk must see him. Five years ago, he had been tiny, skin and bones, and the sort of pale that felt deathly. To see that as your last memory, and then have the same person in front of you, so much better— was it a relief? Was it a comfort? To think back to what his reflection used to be and compare it to the outline of himself now, well, it made him feel quite a lot better about the world at hand.

It was almost as if Yongguk was having the same thought. “‘Tis nice, to see how you’ve grown up,” he said. “Had you ever told me what you said that day?”

“Which?” Junhong asked.

“The day I had found you,” reminded Yongguk. He had started picking at his cuticles as if the question made him anxious. “You had said something in Amarim before you collapsed, and I had wondered what it had been, but felt I had no confidence to ask.”

“You never had,” replied Junhong. “If I’m honest with you, I’m not sure exactly what I had said, but ‘twas likely ‘Ami’. It once meant ‘Sailor’ in Amarim, but over the years it came to be a prayer, something we often say when we are searching for hope or good fortune. Whenever a storm brews, whenever trade has gone bad, whenever a couple has a fight,” he chuckled at the last one. “‘Tis something I often say when met with a great relief.”

“And you had said it upon seeing me for what reason?” Yongguk asked with reddening cheeks.

“For I saw you and knew my fortune had changed. I knew not what my life would be, nor even who you were, but from your expression alone, I knew. And from your expression now, I know. You are a good man, Yongguk. If there is hate put in your heart, then so it shall be. You are still a good man,” said Junhong. There was a pause as Yongguk looked away from him. “They tell me this plan of yours is foolish. They’ve told me you’ll put his life at risk.”

“I won’t kill anyone. I shan’t. ‘Tis not my will and ‘tis not my way, and if you believe me a good man you’d know it. Not even the most vile and immoral of people could make me a killer, and so neither shall the faultless villain,” defended Yongguk.

“But ‘tis not your will in this matter; ‘tis magics,” argued Junhong.

Again the silence between them was long and their cups were emptied. The afternoon had heightened as the guard came in, not to protect him as usual, but rather a hapless villain who had stolen his mind away from him.

“Even the thought that I might see him soon leaves me quite cross,” admitted Yongguk. “Yet, that is all the more reason to go. The vividness in my mind is either entirely justified, and action must be taken, or it is entirely falsified, and I shall, as a logical and rational person, recover from it in an instant.” His head pounded with drums, so loud he thought Junhong might be able to hear it from across the table. “I shall drown myself if I must to escape these drums,” he whispered to himself. “We shall go then,” he said louder yet.

“Then we shall go,” agreed Junhong. “I shall translate as you need, but please do know, if you stand within 5 meters of him I shall join the guards in removing you. His death would be unwarranted.”

_ Yet his tune haunts me _ . The drums went on drumming up a fuss of noise under his scalp. They were an endless racket, a cacophony of symbols crashing and snare drums flaring, all at the endless expense of a sole victim. 

Regardless of their worries, he would face the cause of his torture.

The halls stretched and thinned as they walked along them, until each step was half that of the last. Yongguk’s feet had shapeless, colorless weights on them and he dragged them on with each step. 

The air was choking him.

His ears rung as the drum beats sped, and he, Icarus, stubborn with pride, believed he could walk into the burning sun and escape unscathed. All at once, the fear of the great evil awaiting him down those halls and corridors had burned and froze him until he shattered like fired ice.

He seldom knew it when they reached the room of the Siren. There was no song to steal the hearts of men. There was no slithering snakes at his toes nor vultures circling him. The brown wood door was unremarkable like every other in the hall, and the girl behind it, perhaps eleven or twelve, was unnerved. She looked so similar to the boy he had met that morning that he was unsurprised to be told in a whisper they were twins as Junhong translated her words: “Yuri, Yejun’s twin, stands before you. She says that it is awfully nice to see you on your feet, but that she very much hoped you wouldn’t come, and now she very much wishes for you to leave.”

“I cannot,” replied Yongguk with an apologetic pat to her shoulder. Before Junhong could translate the sentiment, she screamed and collapsed. She rolled on the floor with howls of pain. Blood soaked through the back of her dress and into her light hair.

The young Yuri sobbed, soft and pained, as she lay on the ground until the guards helped her stand again.

Yongguk took a terrified step back. His heart pounded.

Junhong spoke with her briefly, and then moved her bloody hair to look at the back of her neck. There was an excitement about him suddenly that was met with a drained smile from her. “You’ve healed her!” Junhong finally translated into Uslili. “Of course, it hurt her as it hurt Yejun this morning, yet you healed her all the same! Of the three to suffer from the Siren’s curse, you have already saved two. By the end of the day, perhaps, even, Minyounggie shall be well for the first time in her life.”

“I should not like to hurt someone that way again,” replied Yongguk.

“Do you not see what you have done?” Junhong asked. “It was pain, yes, but pain that healed her. Scales ran up her back, across her shoulders, and down her arms. Once she was consumed with them her condition would only worsen until she met her death, according to her siblings. You have saved her, don’t you see? And you must save Minyoung as well.”

“It certainly does not feel as though I have done any good for her at all,” argued Yongguk. “She still seems pained by my touch.”

“‘Tis no matter, Youngjae knows it better than I. He shall tell you the state of affairs and once you are well-informed on the matter I think your morality shall agree that you must.”

“And yet I think that I mustn’t,” Yongguk mumbled to himself. The world was out of place, ten feet left of what it was meant to be. He, five years gone from a world he had lived in, no longer understood a word of the language of the world.

Through the door, even the smell made him gag. Slithering snakes ran shivers up his spine as he prepared himself to face his mythical Medusa, and pray only that he was not turned to stone. Those war drums hammered and shocked him. They slammed into his skull and demanded with fury of him something primal and nameless. Yet he kept his face still with every strength he could find within himself, for if he showed his already set torture, they would certainly remove him before he could know the face of his poisoner.

In the time that passed it was silent, and all watched him with scrutiny as he stayed still and contained.

Finally, defeatedly, the young girl turned and went farther back in her room, through another wooden door, and came back with a handsome young man.

_ Daehyun _ .

Yongguk was burning. His whole body shook and quaked like he had lost all sanity but he, with the last grips on it, denied his feet the right to move, refused his arms the right to reach, and disavowed his hands’ rights to grasp. How badly did he want to end the devil in front of him?

Only a milligram less than his belief in his own morality. 

Oh how loud those drums came! Oh how lightning struck him, burning him up! Yongguk tossed on stormy waters. He thought he must devise a way to keep Daehyun away from him forever. Oh, the curse it was to be near him! How could he escape him for all his life when their siblings were to be wed? The deafening tune thrashed within him, and wreaked havoc in his head.

Their eyes met for just a second before Yongguk turned from him. He threw his hands over his eyes dramatically to avoid his gaze. “Yongguk?” Junhong asked carefully.

The drums pounded into him, a violent and senseless beating that slowly wore at his will and his belief in his character. It was a vile, senseless sort of hate, with no reason nor logic. He had no means of understanding it.

He had come for answers, but that was not what he had received. There were no answers hidden in that pounding tune that sought to unravel him. Only a name.  _ Daehyun. _ He saw red, but he did not create it. Perhaps there was praise to be sung for his stubbornness, for even if it was what had brought him to this torturous place, it was what kept him intact. Rough waves crashed into him and snakes sought to tear him away bit by bit, but his will and his will alone fought them in a senseless and endless battle that had no diplomatic end.

Junhong was staring at him. They all were. He supposed he understood why.

“His name is Daehyun, I remember now.” It left a foul and poisonous taste on his tongue, and it was through sheer willpower alone that he didn’t recoil or succumb to the drumming sound inside his his mind that was set on torturing him. “I remember him. He was… no, he is… I thought him to be hardworking and kind. I thought him to have an admirable loyalty to his family, an admirable compassion for others, and admirable character overall. I thought him to be the sort of amiable soul that gifts a warm smile on the weariest of travellers, who gives his smiles away easily even to strangers. Selfless, I would say even now. Hearing of what he has done, selfless first. If he truly loved,” the word made Yongguk gag. To think Daehyun might care for him made him sick, “if he truly… felt anything of what they had said he felt for me, the fact that he would sacrifice that for my betterment and that of his siblings is… admirable of him.” Once again, he gagged.

“You ought to leave here,” Junhong suggested. “You don’t seem well at all.” Yuri had said something as well. “She agrees with me. There’s too much danger for the both of you to share a room together, in her mind. I’ll confess I know not of the dangers, though, only that you seem ill at the proximity to him. I’ve heard before the illness is… extreme. It was meant to ward off… the worst kinds of men, even if they are my ancestors I’m not to diminish or avoid what they had done and why they were so detested as to warrant this song’s creation.”

“What had they done to warrant such a song? What do the Amarim have to do with these Sirens?” Yongguk asked. As they spoke without him looking at Daehyun, he was finding himself able to calm down.

Junhong was awfully hesitant to speak. He was uncomfortable, and apologetic even when they could not understand his Uslili story. “The Amarim created them. According to Yerim and Yubin, the Sirens had just reproduced by singing their Siren’s Song, the one which you were afflicted with. Such a song nestles a baby siren in the hearts of men, while to call them forward to be eaten there is another Calling Song which they sing even to this day. I’ll admit, I was taught the Amarim version of their history, so I hadn’t known until they had told me… my ancestors avoided the songs through trickery, and then, in an act of true heartless cruelty, cut apart the fins of the Sirens until instead of a mermaid’s tail each had two bloody leg like things. They cut a hole for themselves there in the center, and raped them. Many died, but the few that survived sung the sorrows into children of their own wombs, making them my distant unfortunate cousins.”

“I have not the words to express my horror at such a tale. ‘Tis an unfair existence for them, then,” said Yongguk softly. Louder, yet, came a complaint that moved them away from such uncomfortable topics. “I had no issue with his character — I thought well of him! None of his appearance, either, he was quite handsome in my mind until now. I had not a word against him, and even now I have nothing specific! Why do I hate him so if I have no reason? ‘Tis unlike me.”

“‘Tis the song he sung to you,” replied Junhong. 

“You may all tell your stories of Sirens but I am not fool enough to believe them, Choi. There is not a song so powerful as to drive me so maddeningly into hate as this has. ‘Tis impossible and I refuse to believe it is so.”

“Yet ‘tis so.”

“Then have him sing it to me again!” Yongguk demanded. “There’s no risk is there? I cannot despise him more than I already do, and at least then I shall understand this nonsense feeling that drums at my mind. Why do I think such sour thoughts of a good man? Have him sing to me again. Tell him to sing the wretched song again!”

Junhong, nervously, translated Yongguk’s demand, and an argument came between Yuri and he over the matter for so long that he once again began to feel the choking feeling of his proximity to Daehyun and wished nothing more than to run. A quiet and terrible part of his brain demanded instead that he turn and throw Daehyun off some high ledge or pierce his heart with the dagger at his side and Yongguk collapsed on the ground at such terrible thoughts. What could make him think such horrible things?

A couple short words from Daehyun, his voice so familiar it burned him, silenced the pair, and Yongguk fought back his gags again. Daehyun began to sing with a long crescendo note, that broke at its height in favor of a wordless, lightly sung tune. The upset Yongguk was put under was worsened a thousand-fold in an instant. That singular first note had him fighting back vomit.

“‘Tis not  _ Amarim _ ,” Yuri whispered softly to Junhong in Avoshi, who had plugged his ears. “I suppose he, knowing he could not sing it, picked another song at random. I know not why else he would sing  _ Ip’pi ai Ami _ . Oh, what is its name in Avoshi?  _ The Siren to the Sailor _ ? No, it isn’t direct.  _ The Sailor’s Song _ , I think.”

“‘Tis interesting, those words mean the same in Amarim. The direct translation that is. It sounds like the name of a prayer, even,” replied Junhong in an equally soft whisper.

_ The Siren loves the sea as does the Sailor (Ip’pi ipi ama ami ipi’a) _

Yongguk in an instant wretched up something coarse, liquid, and colorless. In just a moment, he was on his feet. His hand clutched onto the top of his head from the dizziness. The other covered his mouth. More of the colorless liquid was dripping from his lips down his fingers. He was unsteady on his feet. He gagged. In an instant, before the next line of the song could begin, before another sound could escape from Daehyun’s mouth, before any of the three could ask if he was alright, Yongguk ran. He ran straight out the room. He didn’t look back. Suddenly, it was quiet, he was gone, and Daehyun felt quite remarkably alone.

The liquid on the floor clouded up and solidified into a thin black sheet of grit.


	13. 11. Lullaby (Reprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If its is a premonition that taunts you, this lullaby shall send it to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reprise? Reprise.
> 
> Comments make me happy.

“Seeing him again was the worst pain I could imagine,” Daehyun laid curled up in a ball on the couch with his head on Yubin’s lap, his eyes red and raw with tears that stained his sister’s skirt. “‘Twas the worst thing I could imagine. I should give my whole life if it would mean I could be free of that pain again.”

She pet at his hair soothingly and wiped his tears away. “Shall we sing  _ Pernicious _ , Hyunnie? You must move on.”

“Not yet, not yet,” he begged. “My heart is not yet so poisonous. I only saw him and thought of how he once held me, how he once comforted me, and now while his healing touch has saved two of them yet, it shall no longer be there for me. Am I a fool to still love him? Even knowing he who I love was an act of my own unfortunate making rather than a genuine being.”

“Should you like me to reply or Yerim?” Yubin responded.

“You, if you please,” he begged.

“Of course you are not a fool, Hyunnie,” Yubin soothed. “He had become something dear to you and you had lost him in the most unfortunate way. The situation was out of your hands and you handled it as well as you could. ‘Tis okay if your heart is still devout to him, but in time we shall sever it, and you shall find a bright day awaits you with a new love.”

“You’re too sweet about it,” he grumbled. “Yerim, am I a fool?”

“You’re absolutely a fool, and a disagreeably whiny one at that,” Yerim said. “You love an idea of him, one that is entirely falsified. You see him through a clouded lens and forget all of where you are wrong. Distance from him has made you lose your sense of who he truly is, and more so you have forgotten that you knew not an ounce of him when you lost him. You knew him not at all! You thought him an advisor, he was the prince. You thought him to be devout, yet he was just infected. Your image of him was idealized and false. Your romance was only that in your imagination. What would life have actually been if you had won him him fairly? You’re from different world, different cultures, and different lives. You could never understand one another! Not in language nor in life. Move on at once, or I shall sing it for you.”

“You’re too cruel, Yerim,” Yubin hissed.

“He would not have asked me my thoughts if he had not wished to hear it,” she replied. “You have not long to mope, Hyunnie, before the contest comes and his heart is given away. Promise me you shall sing  _ Pernicious _ by then, or you shall truly poison yourself.”

“I swear it,” Daehyun promised. “The night before I shall sing my heart clean, but for now, let me mourn. Let me recover.” He shifted, looking between the two of them and then off to the door through which their younger siblings had fallen asleep in a happily reunited heap. “Is there worry in either of your hearts for our Yejunnie, and how infatuated he has become with the Court and the King? Is it my own madness to wonder if a month as the King’s ward might have been an undesirable allowance?”

“He is certainly invested,” Yerim agreed. “When I met with him today, ‘twas his only thought. I would have argued he had bored poor Yuri silly, but she seemed very interested in the minutiae of the Court’s proceedings and its precedents therein.”

“Yet, I would not worry,” argued Yubin. “He has always had that sort of heart about him, and it comes to no surprise that he enjoyed his time as Jongup’s ward. From what I understand of him, he had grown quite affectionate towards our Yejunnie as well. The conversations I witnessed between the pair had seldom a difference in feeling between that and the conversations between Daehyun and Yejun, as if the pair were brothers themselves.”

“Please do not compare me to the likes of him,” groaned Daehyun. “Is my day not horrendous enough, without being compared to such a man as he?”

“And what sort of man is he?” Yubin shot back, quick to grow cross with him.

“The sort that separated us for a month because I had said something he didn’t like,” replied Daehyun. “My feelings against him are not entirely unfounded, Binnie, remember that it is not just history of his kind on my side, but his own actions as well.”

It was Yerim who responded quicker. She was sure to draw her words out and fire them quicker than whatever rage could leave Yubin’s tongue, for the pair of them in a true spat would be good for no one, especially on their first night returned to one another. “He wasn’t entirely justified in his reaction, I’ll agree, but consider his own point of view. You had, in many ways, just deprived him of his brother in a manner foreign and scary to him, and then you immediately turned and told him you would remove the only other person he cares for from him right after he had confessed to her. He was not justified, but the two of you certainly fed into one another.”

“I won’t deny that,” Daehyun agreed.

“Even if you were to, I would know you knew better,” said Yerim.

“Would you now? How so?”

“I know your plot,” she said proudly, beaming even more as Yubin called out in dismay and Daehyun brushed her off. “You don’t truly see a reason to object, Hyunnie, I know it to be so. I think, rather, you’ve come to terms with the situation at hand. Yet you shall continue to pass seasons off on Jongup in mere days, going from the warmth of summer to the freezing chills of winter and around again.”

“And why would I do such a thing?” Daehyun asked.

“To see what he should do if he were truly cross. If he were truly denied what he wishes, what would his reaction be? As if it shall give you some security that our Binnie will be treated well even in his worst of moods, and he has already shown that time and time again, I know it. You hate it, do you not? No matter how you challenge him, he is always soft with her, and quick to lean on diplomacy and compromise rather than abuses of power. It stings at you ego that he is so well-mannered and agreeable, for you truly wish to hate him, but have not a single substantial reason to do so.”

“Your conspiracies truly proceed you, Yeri,” replied Daehyun nonchalantly. “I believe I’d hear whispers of how unfounded your claims are from across an ocean. Of course, I am doing no such thing, and of course, I still object to their union. ‘Tis entirely well-founded in all the both of you know me to be.”

“Of course,” Yerim agreed easily, with a snicker hidden in her tone.

“Off to bed with you,” Yubin told her. “Life is not a dramatic play and this is no theater. Go on, I’m sure Yewon will be relieved if you take Minyounggie from her. She’s always so anxious about holding her in sleep.”

“It’s because she tosses and turns often,” Daehyun reminded. “Go on then, Yeri, ‘tis late enough for you to need sleep as well.”

“I’m nearly an adult,” Yerim argued. 

“Nearly being the emphasis. Off to bed then.” Yubin shooed. 

“Wait, wait, let me tell you of my dream first,” Yerim begged, “I swear it is interesting.” With her siblings begrudging agreement, she started to quite animatedly speak of it, “for a full week now I have dreamed the same thing. ‘Twas our Daehyunnie, so familiar that it didn’t feel like a dream in the slightest, in our familiar garden, sitting under our boat. He had turned it upside down and propped it up with a stick to make himself some shade. He sat there, silent as the night until a sailor came, and then came his Calling Song clear and full the way through. Is that not a good sign, Daehyunnie?”

“More likely, you just miss home, as we all do,” replied Daehyun. “Do not delay it any longer, Yeri, it’s time for you to sleep. Perhaps you shall have a real premonition if you hurry.”

With Yerim stormed out the room and into the pile of sleeping children, a whispered conversation carried on beyond the pair. “Is she fooling with me or are you truly mad enough to be testing him?” Yubin hissed.

“‘Twould not be mad of me to wish to ascertain my sister would be treated well, even in the most inevitable situation as a married couple fighting. However, I am doing no such thing and am absolutely offended that you would suggest there was truth behind those nonsensical claims.” Daehyun replied firmly.

Yubin knocked him over the head. “I can’t believe you’re testing him.” After a long moment of tense crossness, she conceded with a small smile, “you’re too doting, Hyunnie. I’m old enough to fair on my own.”

“Yet even if you were one hundred years and a quarter more, I should still worry about you, and I should still very much go out of my way to protect you,” replied Daehyun. 

The two shared a soft smile between them— the sort known well to quarrelling siblings— the sort understood to mean that while there might be moments of cruelty between them, any outsider’s cruelty would be met with harsh disavowment.

“How is your heart after today?” Yubin asked with a brush of her hand through his hair.

“‘Tis still broken, but it’s a resilient little thing. It shall heal just as the waves shall bring in ships. I worry less over my own injury at the moment, and more of Yongguk’s. All the has transpired of late has little sense nor foundation in my understandings of the song I had sang. ‘Tis not just a missing memory any long, but now, rather, that which he coughed up today,” replied Daehyun.

“What was it like?” Yubin asked with a sour expression. “I only ask because I’ve heard ‘twas unusual.”

“‘Twas not usual in any sense,” agreed Daehyun. “He went into a fit the moment I began to sing, almost as he had when he wretched up that wretched little beast, yet he was not frozen in his seat as Amarim had done to him, and it only took one note rather than the entire song for it to begin. At first, it was like sea water with invisible ice in it, solid enough to create shapes but liquid enough to lack form. Perhaps one could argue it had similar qualities to wet sand, if wet sand were more liquid than solid and lacked any discernible color at all.”

Yubin again made a sour face, but her scientific mind prevailed her, “at first?”

“It took no time at all for it to turn black as the sea at night. It melted down into a thin sheet of blackness and solidified into grit. When I rubbed the toe of my shoe over it, it turned to such a fine dust that it fell between the floorboards and disappeared all together.”

“‘Tis absolutely unheard of,” said Yubin. “I had heard from my Jongup that he was well once he had returned ‘way from you. Perhaps ‘tis a poison?”

“Who has heard of a poison here?” Daehyun asked, “ _ The Siren’s Song _ is a poison.  _ Amarim _ is an illness inescapable. But I was singing neither, Binnie. He had demanded it, but I am no fool. I was just singing _ The Siren to The Sailor _ .”

“Why would you sing that? There is no journey ahead of us, and we know well enough that song has no magic. It is just a song, no spells about it.”

“I know that well, and perhaps that’s part of why it had come to mind, but in truth I had only sung it because Youngjae had sung it to me that day, when I had cured Yongguk of my curse. I supposed he had sung it because it was the only one he was sure of the words of, and he has since admitted to me ‘tis the only one he has confidence in. His father made him sing it before every journey. I know well it has no magic to it,” Daehyun explained.

“Perhaps it was something else, then, for it couldn’t have been the song. ‘Tis not a journey, nor is the song even one of effect.”

“Perhaps ‘tis simply that I sang to him?” Daehyun supposed. “Perhaps  _ Amarim _ has left his with such an aversion to my voice that even one note cause some strange illness.”

“Perhaps so, but I believe we would know such a thing. His memories being lost is certainly the sort of detail Grandma would’ve forgotten to mention in her tales, she had no interest in things of that nature, especially if it is only and occasional side effect. But bodily effects? To cough up something strange and foreign? There is seldom a time when she would leave out such a side effect, to save us from worries such as these. I struggle to believe it is just your voice, Hyunnie.”

“Then ‘tis nothing and everything all at once,” replied Daehyun, “and we shall never know for certain what has transpired.”

Uslili came, nervous and quick, from down the hall. It was quite the commotion, as what quickly grew to be defined as Junhong’s voice begged for another. What he was begging they did not know, only that it was Uslili and that the voice approached their room with purpose. 

Yubin hissed a soft and quick, “hide,” to her brother and pushed him off her lap and into one of the empty rooms. He tripped over himself and near landed on the floor in his hurry to escape from the door’s line of sight, uncertain yet certain of what was coming for him. It was fortunate all of their siblings were sleeping in one room, as it left two more open and Daehyun was quick to shut the door behind him in the closer of the two.

The door was opened with the definitive sound of suspense. Through it came Yongguk’s voice, firm and unwavering through its determination, and then following was Junhong’s shaky apology and translation, “I’m sorry, Binnie, to call so late. I had tried everything to stop him but there is no reason with him. My only options had become to follow and help keep your brother safe or to risk leaving him to find his way on his own. He says he wishes to see Daehyun again. He wishes to hear him sing.”

“You know we certainly cannot accept such a thing,” said Yubin. She didn’t glanced back at the room where Daehyun was hidden, no matter how much she wished to.

As Junhong translated, it became clear on Yongguk’s face that her answer was not well received. “He says that he demands it,” said Junhong. “He knows well enough that this is a nonsense sort of request, and yet he listens not to a word of warning.”

“Well, Daehyun is not here so it matters not. He had just left for a walk not twenty minutes or so ago and if I know him well, which I would be less than bold to say that I do, I would insist to you that he shan’t be back until an entirely unreasonable hour. ‘Tis fruitless to call for him where he is not. Tell the Prince if he would like to find him, he must go elsewhere.” Yubin had no qualms nor difficulty in lying.

Junhong translated, and Yongguk’s face grew increasingly distressed. With reddened eyes and tightly drawn lips, he made his next request until his voice broke and he turned quickly away with his hand over his eyes. “He implores you, dearly, to tell him where Daehyun as gone. He says he cannot stand the drumming any longer. It is too much for him to endure. He begs, sincerely, for you to understand him. He has no violence in his heart. As much as it pains him, he simply wishes to hear the song again, for as loud as the drums haunt him, they’ve quieted with the song.”

“The drums?” Yubin asked.

“He says there is a drumming noise inside his head that has haunted him since first overhearing your brother’s name,” explained Junhong.

“I truly understand nothing of his condition,” replied Yubin with a distinctive frown. Still, she was adamant in her lie. “Yet, I can be of know help. I know not where Daehyun has gone. ‘Tis usual of him to grow restless and wander once the young ones are asleep. ‘Tis never clear where he wanders too nor is his path fixed at any point.”

“He asked then, if he may leave a message with you, to pass on to your brother,” translated Junhong. “It seems he believes some sort of arrangement can be made.”

“And what is the message he wishes to send?”

“He says, ‘please, in all earnesty, listen to me and understand my intent is nothing more than the request I lie before you. I have no thoughts of anything else. There is a drumming in my head from him, a cursed drumming that threatens me with madness. I have no violence by nature. I don’t believe in harming others. I only wish for the drumming to stop. Please, all I ask is that he listen to my observation and aid me in my hopes of alleviating myself of this awful sound. To hear him sing today dampened the noise as much as it pained me. All I wish is for him to sing to me once again in hopes that perhaps if I might be forced to listen to the song as a whole, I shall be cured of this wretched poison in my head. Please, help me.’”

Yubin gulped, finding it harder with the sincerity, “I suppose I might—”

A door opened behind them and she turned her head quickly, frightened by the sound, to find Yewon exiting the room where all but Daehyun were. She was shaking and swaying in some nervous state in the liminal spaces of consciousness, “Binnie, I had the most strange dream.” She spoke in Ippari, too tired for any other language.

“Yewon? Are you alright? Is she alright?” Junhong asked. Yongguk was speaking as well. “He says she looks quite ill and wonders if he shouldn’t call for a doctor. Yewonnie, has sickness hit you? She was fine this morning, I swear it. When I brought her to her lessons she was quite energetic.”

“Yewon? Are you alright?” Yubin rushed to worry over her, but Yewon’s attention was quickly drawn to the two men in the room.

“ _ Ami _ ?” She asked. “Dear  _ Ami _ , you seem fine. You’re head is on solid and square on your shoulders. I sang for you for hours,  _ Ami _ , why did you not come?” Yewon seemed to fall more and more into sleep as she spoke to one of them, it was unclear which.

Yubin grabbed her and shook her gently until she found her place in their realm. “Dear Yewonnie, what was your dream right now?”

“Our Sailor came back from wandering at sea,” said Yewon. “‘Tis like our Prince to wander, I know. His journey had gone well enough, but he’d lost his head in the storm. He kept begging me again and again to find it, so I searched and searched, until my legs turned to a tail and my arms to fins. I found it laying amongst the shells at the bottom of a familiar lake of black water, in the silence hidden in its depths. When I brought it back to shore, he was gone, and so I sat with his head and sang for hours, yet he would not come to collect his head.”

Yubin translated her dream into Avoshi, and Junhong responded with a confused, “I almost understood most of what she had said. ‘Twas like she was speaking an incomprehensible parrot of my own tongue. Was that Ippari? Are our languages truly so similar?” With too much worry about them for an answer, Junhong translated it once more into Uslili, while she and Yongguk stared at each other as if each was seeing someone who should not exist in their plane of existence. She sang then, without thinking, her Calling Song.

“What is she singing?” Junhong asked. Yongguk said something. “Yongguk has said it’s familiar. ‘Like the forest nymph’s river-bound sister’.”

“‘Tis her Calling Song,” replied Yubin. “If Yongguk recognizes the tune it is because he has heard Yerim’s. Hers has the same tune but the words are different. ‘Tis not unusual for things like that. Yejun sings one of the same tune as our grandmother. Minwoo, Minhyuk, and I all share a tune between us. Even my older brother has one of a familiar tune, the same as  _ The Fisherman’s Plea. _ ”

“Her dream is strange, is it not?” Junhong asked. “To dream of Yongguk with his head missing, to turn into a fish to return it, and to remain in this strange state despite having entered the realm of consciousness.”

Yubing mouth twisted tightly and she pressed her sister down to the couch to rest. After a soft kiss to her forehead she explained, “we call it a Premonition Stupor, and ‘tis uncommon but not rare. She and Yerim both have some foresight, though in the most usual morning ‘tis Yerim who knows all and Yewon’s dreams tend to have a tenuous relation to reality. Yerim never enters stupors over it, she’s always rather clear-headed, but it seems our Yewon is not the same. I shall have to sing her back to sleep.”

“Shall we go then?” Junhong asked. “I wish not to infringe if she needs caring for.”

“You only must leave if you wish not to fall asleep here on the floor,” replied Yubin with a wave of her hand. “If it suits you better than your beds, you’re welcome to stay and listen to my lullaby. Although… if Yerim were here should would laugh at my hubris, I should not likely put you full to sleep, only my brother has that sort of skill.”

“Still, it seems better that we go, then,” agreed Junhong. He summarized their conclusions to Yongguk and started towards the door, only to pause in confusion when Yongguk did not follow. He was paused, looking at Yewon as if all of her stupor made sense to him.

“She must help me find my head,” said Yongguk in Uslili, and Yewon with her limited Uslili understood.

“We must raise it up and bring it in,” said Yewon in a blend of Ippari, Avoshi, and Uslili, still in her nonsensical state. “Where have we put the fishing hooks? ‘Tis at the bottom of a lake and swimming to it would be quite the struggle. Oh, the black waters are poison, aren’t they?”

“She is much to tired,” said Yubin. “Go on then, shoo, the both of you.” As Junhong pulled Yongguk from the room, she took Yewon up in her arms and began to sing a soft song in her ear.


	14. 12. Go (囲碁)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would you like to play a game of Go with me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really really bad at go...

“Have you truly gone mad?” Jongup’s voice was angry but soft as he stared down his brother. His eyes were watery but no tears would fall and his hands shook in the fists curled up at his sides.

“To be near him is a torture I cannot describe, and I have no shame if I sound like a madman in admitting it. Yet ‘tis harder, each second, to keep myself away him. I feel as though if I were to spend an hour with him, I would simply cease to be. How is that for mad, then?  Yet, that torturous, ghastly tune lessened my drumming, and so he must sing it again,” replied Yongguk without looking up. “If you wish me to say I’m mad, I have no qualms in doing so.”

“Do you so truly wish to make a murderer of yourself? Or is it some masochistic wish of your twisted heart? His song was meant to ward you off, but instead you’re persistent.”

“You know I would not,” said Yongguk simply. He paid no mind to his brother, rather focusing intensely on his book, the pen in his hands, and the paper where he scrawled out chicken-scratch. 

“I know nothing of you anymore. The Yongguk I know would have listened to me,” said Jongup.

“As I had listened to you when you told me not to run off into the forest in a rage, at the risk that Father would have our captives put to death in my absence? As I had listened you when you told me we must take on Father’s beside vigil in order for our plot to pass the crown between us to find its success?” Yongguk listed.

Jongup mouth opened for a long moment, but no words escaped him. He closed it once again. “I thought your last memory was of finding Junhong in that cage his father had locked him in.”

“‘Twas, you’re not wrong but neither are you right. Since he sung to me once my memory has widened. A full year, minus his songs, comes to my mind easily. I don’t understand why I must tell you so many times but ‘tis not madness driving me towards him, ‘tis a determined and steadfast hope,” argued Yongguk.

“It doesn’t change a word of my arguments. Seeking him out is madness.” 

“Then I’m mad,” replied Yongguk. His hand slipped and his pen hit against the side of the ink jar. Ink spread across the desk in a splattered manner and Yongguk in turn stared at it. “My mind is drowning in ink, Jongup, how can I be anything less than mad?”

“I understand not of word of you. And you are certain ‘twas that specific song?” Jongup sighed. With a wave of his hand servants came to wipe away the mess and he came to lean up against the desk and watch as Yongguk wrote out his incomprehensible speech.

“In the two weeks of hunting him, I’ve only caught him twice,” replied Yongguk. “Seeing him once did nothing to help my status. The second I did not approach but rather hid with the young girl that’s in her early teens, her name escapes me. I do not know that I will ever remember any of their names but his and your betrothed. He had been singing to the little ones, and she had said something of teaching them a fishing song. ‘Twas certainly a different one than before.”

“With no results?”

“Only agony, but ‘tis the ink that causes my illness, I swear it, and none had escaped me then. The drums stayed as loud as they had been and no new memories came to mind. ‘Tis that song, and he must sing it to me,” asserted Yongguk. With a fresh ink pot finally brought to him, he once again began his scribblings.

“Had you thought that, perhaps, ‘twas the song but not the man, then? Perhaps my Binnie may sing it to you! She is talented when she allows herself to sing, I swear,” said Jongup.

Yongguk waved his hand at the thought, “‘Twould be pointless. The girl who aids me had tried that in the beginning, but even with several of her siblings in tow there was no effect. It must be him and it must be that song. ‘Tis all there is left until my head is returned to me.”

“I cannot condone this in any manner. Why should you torture yourself when ‘tis easier to simply avoid him? He seeks you out not a moment, why must you haunt him?”

“Perhaps you are right,” agreed Yongguk, “and perhaps I should allow for him to recover his heart from me, take my leave, and we might each blossom on our own. Perhaps, I should. But I shan’t. I won’t. ‘Tis impossible for me to allow this hate to stay bred in my heart, to be content with a mind sunk to the bottom of the sea. He shall free me and then, only then, shall I let him be.” Yongguk stared Jongup down with such fire that Jongup stepped away from the desk. With the Siren’s song he had been winter, now he was nothing of the same.

“You’re as mad for him as you were before he cut the siren out of you,” mumbled Jongup. “I suppose… I suppose I shall have to humor you, but only if you agree to do this in my most strict of conditions. You shall be in a separate room from him. The door between you shall be locked and guarded. If I decide your condition is too dire, and you have put yourself at too much risk of madness or illness, it shall be done with. Am I clear?”

“As day, brother, as day.”

“Then, to my chagrin it shall be. The madness I allow you brother… ‘Tis truly laughable. Perhaps I am mad for allowing it.” He went to step away, as if it had come time for him to leave the room and leave Yongguk to his messy scrawling. He paused. “Oh, by the way, with our candidates grown impatient even in your time of illness, I had the unfortunate requirement of setting the contest date: a week from today, it shall be. If none are to your liking, you may feel free to say in their feckless and improper impatience you have found too much fault in any to marry, save my Binnie, who you shall reject on some circumstance unrelated to her character.”

“Have your plans to marry her seen their path to fruition, then?”

“Indeed, delightfully so. I had one of the babies in my care while you were gone to the world, you know. When in the ranges of three’s and four’s they become quite observant. He had imparted on me the knowledge that one of his sisters and one of Himchan’s cousins quite fancy each other, and upon confrontation individually I received more than sufficient confirmation from both, and then had both eagerly agree to a supposedly ‘secret’ arrangement. Yerim and Jiwoo have agreed to wed once they are both of age, although neither is aware the other has already agreed and both are under the impression that I shall ‘try to aid them in winning the heart’ of the other.”

“Why must you be so elaborate?” asked Yongguk. “Surely honesty would manage the matter without trouble, if both were to already like each other and both were to agree to the arrangement.”

“To be honest would certainly be quicker, but lying is significantly more amusing,” replied Jongup. “Either way her status should be just enough for an argument to be made on my behalf, especially if Himchan were to adopt her into his family as a result of the wedding. My only regret is that since your siren had dropped from the contest, my Binnie must stand. The Lord of Ipa may be pleasant in usual circumstances, but he shall burn my palace to the ground if I do not give at least one of his candidates a chance at you.”

“If I am right and cure myself of the siren, tell him he must stand in Binnie’s place. If I can stand him for even that long, I would not mind the torture to save you the embarrassment of marrying your brother’s rejection.”

“You are as kind as you are mad,” sighed Jongup. “Just be careful.”

“And to where are you off so quickly?” Yongguk asked. “Is your lady love waiting?” He teased.

“I am to teach her and some of her family the game of Go,” replied Jongup. “We have played chess so many times in a draw that I think her a master, so we had agreed on lessons in every other sort of game I could remember.”

“She shall beat you in Go,” teased Yongguk. “You’re bad at it.”

“I am not, you’re simply very good,” sniffed Jongup. “Tease me not, I am your King. I shall have you beheaded,” he teased back.

“And I shall snatch the crown off you head if I feel the simplest whim to do so,” laughed Yongguk. “Teach her well. I would like to play her once she has gone along well enough to beat you. Likely, tomorrow, if it takes her today to understand the most basic rules.” 

“Off with his head!” Jongup called over his shoulder, though no servants nor guards moved because they understood well enough the jest in his tone.

“Wait! When shall I meet with him?” Yongguk asked.

“I shall inform them of your experiment and with preparations, I’d hope before your engagement. The sooner we stop your mad chase at him and cure you of this hope the better,” replied Jongup, clearly unhappy to be reminded of Yongguk’s demands. “I shall send the girl to fetch you if it seems we might manage the matter sooner.”

“Thank you, Jongup, truly thank you.”

He left with an unhappy wave of his hand, his shoulders slumped and face sullen as he left Yongguk to himself in the study.

It was not long until Himchan found his way into the expansive library in which Yongguk had made his study, and without a thought to the room he pulled up a chair as he always did and sat across from him.

They were silent and still for minutes as Yongguk continued his scribbling and Himchan stared. With a sigh, Yongguk put his pen down and stared his longest friend down, yet still there were no words between them, just a soft gaze between each other. The way Himchan’s brow was knit was enough to tell Yongguk he was worried. The way Yongguk’s fingers drummed against the table was enough for Himchan to understand much more. “Are you here to tell me you think I am mad as well?” Yongguk asked.

“Quite the contrary, I think this is the most ‘you’ I have seen you since that Siren cursed you. You have all of your will to go on and your single-minded determination back. ‘Tis a relief, to see you free of your madness,” replied Himchan.

“Not free yet,” replied Yongguk, “and Jongup seems to think my cure is madness in the highest form.”

“That girl sure seems to think it will work. Her older sister Yerim and I have been well-acquainted, especially as my adoption of her becomes more likely under Jongup’s unnecessary plotting. I’ve asked for her honest thoughts on the matter and she told me she thought you were a mad scientist and a masochist… but, well, she also seems to believe you have a chance at being right. Something of how their father tried to keep the details of the songs secret from them under the guise of protection from the law, thus leaving them in the dark about many,” replied Himchan.

“She sees my belief as possible then?” Yongguk clarified.

“She sees it as being as possible as it is possible that there was a siren embedded in your heart for five years. It certainly seems as though it should be fake, or if nothing else, at least metaphorical, yet from her perspective there is a good chance it is true.”

“Does she doubt the siren that I had suffered from?”

“Only in spirit, I believe,” said Himchan with a small smile. “She only wishes not to believe her brother had done such a thing, and so she denies what she knows to be true for the sake of her own opinion of him.”

Again between a two of them, a look said more than their words ever could. Himchan stole Yongguk’s notebook briefly, and muttered the garbled, phonetically-written Avoshi words for a moment or two before passing it back. “It does seem those sirens are quite talented in stealing hearts, doesn’t it? Jiwoo seldom talks of anything other than Yerim, and I’m sure you’ve heard Jongup’s ravings of Yubin. Oh! Have you heard he intends to help the boy, the one entering his teenage years, I struggle to remember their names, Y-something or other— Jongup intends to help him find a soldier bride, and in my understanding of our King’s ever plotting mind, likely a knighted woman who shall be given a province of her own to care for once she is a proper age. Soon our entire nation will be in their grasps. If you had been taken by the oldest it would have been madness.”

“Do you suspect something nefarious?” Yongguk asked.

“Truly? Of course not. They are a kind and hard-working people, and the older two are quite lovely, with their siblings sure to take after, even the little scaly girl. No, truly I don’t expect anything but happenstance in the matter. However, you cannot deny that the dramatics of such a plot are quite enticing. Is it not fun to create conspiracies in the place of coincidence?” Himchan beamed.

Yongguk sighed and returned to his scribbling as Himchan ranted on. “You are almost as bad as Jongup,” he had remarked, mostly to himself, as Himchan spoke over him of grander and grander theories on how the Ipparim should capture their humble country.

“Yet—” the word was quiet and calm enough to draw Yongguk’s attention back to his friend. He knew well enough that its tone meant Himchan was preparing to say what is truly on his mind. “Jongup has set you contest for next week. Between my extensive travels and all the actual dramatics of late, I had forgotten about it all together. Who shall you… What shall you do?”

“I shall pick one of them,” said Yongguk.

“Did Jongup not tell you that you could refuse all of them together?” Himchan fretted. “You shouldn’t feel pressure to marry just because we all are doing so. I shall tell you married life is wonderous, but only with a spouse you love wholeheartedly.”

“He said I may, and yet I won’t. My luck with love, you know well enough, has been fraught in every attempt. Twice now, when it was not even an arrangement, I have been the loser of what is not meant to be a game. I hold no illusions of love nor trust anymore, Channie, only understanding. These suitors? They love me not and they know that well. I am a means of survival to them, and they in turn can simply be there for the sake of calming my brother’s endless worries of my happiness. I shall know to expect nothing at all from them, and in turn, they shall know that I have no ill intentions for them. That shall be enough for me.”

“Do you not wish for happiness?” Himchan asked.

“I am happy, Himchan. I don’t need a lover for such a thing, just the love of my friends and family. I shall speak with the couple remaining candidates for the week as it goes, and whichever seems best suited to understand my wishes for the arrangement and capable of maintaining my friendship, that shall be the one I pick.”

“I worry about you,” Himchan said.

“Because I am now mad?”

“No, not because they think you’re mad. Rather, I worry about you because you are entirely too sane, Yongguk. Be unreasonable, for once. For once, just feel everything rather than restraining yourself with logical conclusions and ethical solutions,” he pleaded.

Yongguk looked at him for a long moment, trying to understand. “I understand not a word of you,” he echoed his brother.

“There is a solution to the hate imbued in your heart, supposedly, is there not? You think you’ve found a cure. I’m under no beliefs that I ought to doubt your logic in that matter, but why? Is it not just a lot of pain to find a man tolerable? Would it not be easier to just, say, hate him and avoid him? He never even comes to this castle unless brought, he remains in a castle you never visit except to see him. So why do anything at all? And sure, yes, it would be simple to settle for one of these candidates. It would be easy to pick one who is like-minded, forge a friendship, and worry not of love. But is it worth it?”

“To avoid being hurt again?” Yongguk challenged.

“Feeling hurt is part of being alive, Yongguk. Heartbreak is as important as love. A life… a human life— it can’t always be happy, nor can it be devoid of emotion. There is no such things a logical life. There is no such thing as a happy life, either. Is it not better to feel, then? Both good and bad— happiness, bliss, anger, and misery? Do they not each have their own value? If you are to hate someone, deserved or not, than simply hate him, without harm to him. If you are to marry, marry someone you love, wholeheartedly. Is that not what life is?”

“It is not what life must be,” countered Yongguk. “Of course there will always be anger and sadness along with happiness. Of course there is no true happy life, of that we agree, but only that. For hate, is it truly well to let that fester in your heart? Is it not better to forgive, even if you cannot forget? To move past evils done to you, purposeful or not— if you don’t, shall you not become bitter and miserable? Is it not a means of tainting any happiness you might have? And in matters of marriage and love, in my mind they are separate. Marriage is a partnership, is it not? It is a pair under the agreement to work together, coordinate, and support one another towards a better future? I need not love the person I marry, simply trust them. Simply know they will do right by me. Simply know we shall support one another. Why must it be love?”

“But wouldn’t you feel as though… as though you were missing out?”

“Perhaps but likely not,” Yongguk shrugged, finally giving up on his writing and pushing the book away to fully engage in the emotionality of the moment. “Perhaps one day I shall fall in love, and I shall hate my arrangement for depriving me of it, but I don’t think that shall be. Rather, I think if I pick well, I shall have someone to help me through the madness of life. I shall have someone to rely on, to turn to with the most troubling matters of my life, and who shall ask for the same support from me. To me, that is happiness more than chaotic love could ever bring.”

“I understand not a word of you,” echoed Himchan.

“It seems to be often the case today, of one not understanding the other. Perhaps that is well, too. Perhaps this is a necessary aspect to interaction. So long as it is done civilly, and the misunderstanding is not one bred from hate nor bigotry, perhaps disagreements are as important to our lives as you think love to be.”

“Well this is quite sour. I know not which of us has won,” Himchan leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and furrowed his brows. After a long moment of silence, he came forward again, perched himself over the desk with his elbows against it and his hand clasped partially in front of his his face. “Please, Yongguk, if I am to advise you to be or do one thing at all, in your entire life, as your closest friend, it is to be more unreasonable. Just once, live unreasonably. Make demands for you own happiness.”

Yongguk watched him for a long time, his own hands coming to cover his entire face as he rested his head in them. It was a quiet voice that answered, one so small and soft that it sounded like not much more than the rumbles of distant thunder. “Do you not see… Is it not clear, that that which you ask of me is exactly what I am doing?”

“Is it?” Himchan replied softly. He dropped his hands down to the desk and reached over to brush Yongguk’s arm with his hand.

“To choose to fight my fate, to stand up for my right to make my own decision in this matter, is that not enough? You may see my actions as diplomatic or logical, but in my own mind, I am acting out, acting intensely, to achieve something I wish for, even though the world shall denounce me as mad for it. Perhaps I am mad. I mind not.”

Himchan sighed, and then stood. He came around the table to stand by Yongguk’s side and spoke softly to him, in a way in which his tone and expression said much more than his words, though his words said everything that could possibly be said in the first place. “You are not mad, Yongguk. I shall stay on the same side of this desk as you from now on.” The two shared a long gaze then, in silence, and there was a conversation more meaningful than all that had been said.


	15. 13. The Sailor's Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sailor's Song has no magic, yet it makes you feel quite safe and loved, does it not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending scene is a bonus bc I really wanted it to exist for some reason
> 
> Please comment and leave kudos <3333

“I shan’t do it! I shan’t! He shall heal Minyoung and leave! I shan’t be the death of him! I shan’t be his torturer! This is madness and I shall take no part in it!” Even before Youngjae had translated, Yongguk had gotten the gist of it. Daehyun shouted his absolute disdain for the request being made of him longer, yet, for in his mind the situation was true madness. “The contest is but a day away, he has no need for me any longer! Have him hold her and then have him leave!”

“Please, have you no pity? He is so certain you might cure him of his madness,” begged Junhong, “is it not worth trying even once?”

“Not once and not ever!” Daehyun replied. “I saw the pain I had cursed him with the first time ‘round, I shan’t be besought to cause it again. Tell him to go, Junhong. He came to cure Minyoung and that is all there is for him here.” He wasn’t happy about the room he was confined in, either, evidenced as much by how he stood so closely to the door and shouted, as if he was begging to burst out of it. Yet, Jongup had insisted the guards keep him locked away while Yongguk’s experiment took place, and even if he refused to be there to witness his brother’s torture, his orders were law.

They could hear Yewon speaking to him softly from inside the locked room, trying to convince her brother to save Yongguk as well.

Youngjae was hesitant, and so for a moment longer Daehyun talked on of how insane Yongguk’s plan was and how he had no plans of regicide even when begged to commit it. Junhong’s objections had been dismissed entirely, leaving only the quarter boy’s shaky Ipparim to calm the tirade. Finally, with a sad sigh, Youngjae called out to him in Ipparim, and Daehyun quieted in shock, as did the others, to hear Youngjae speak what was meant to be an unknown tongue to him, “cousin, sing to him as I sang to you.” It was dead silent. “Siren, you must.”

“Brother, I can’t,” replied Daehyun quietly.

“At least hear the words from him,” Youngjae tried, awkward and slowly losing the words that he knew.

“And why should I?” demanded Daehyun.

There was a long, hesitant pause, and then what came sent Daehyun into a panic, not words but a song that grew a voice stronger by the second line. Youngjae’s grasp on the words was clearly more phonetic than anything, yet it would do, as it was, if it had continued, if nothing else, because Yerim saved him where he faltered.

_ I fear your heart to be pernicious _ _   
_ _ That you shall inflict wounds _ _   
_ _ Let you not become poisonous _ _   
_ __ And your heart to move on soon—

Daehyun cried out to them in a panic, “no, do not! Stop, please, allow me my feelings just a few poor hours longer! I shall hear what he has to say if you shall just let me mourn my love a little longer!” It would be cruel of them, its own painful torture, to sing the whole song to him. Rather than healing a broken heart, it would have ripped it out of him and left him hollow.

“He shall listen to you,” said Youngjae in Avoshi, and then he left without a second glance. He had revealed his well-guarded heritage, and it was enough that he had to flee them. Junhong had been inclined to follow, his entire face and features wide with shock, but was quietly begged to stay and translate where issues arose. Still, he stood and stared at the door with a grim sort of understanding of moments long since passed.

Yongguk was hesitant. He held his messy paper in front of him and read the phonetic chicken scratch he had since rehearsed with Yewon five times over. Still, his words were accented and slow, and prepositions were dropped here and there as he couldn’t make out his own writing. “I’m mad from you. ‘Tis like you’ve locked me [in] my own mind. It’s must be a drum and cage you’ve used to trap me within myself. Every moment longer I feel [as] though I might lose all of myself. I know we stand on uneven ground. ‘Tis [un]stable. Any moment the earth may quake and favor may switch sides on us, but I have no delusions of win[ning] against you. Yet, for now I am the Prince and my will shall be obeyed. You shall sing that song again [to] me, until I can take its torture no longer. ‘Tis the only way, I swear it.”

“I can’t,” begged Daehyun, but his objection was ignored as Yongguk’s chicken scratch speech continued on.

“Listen to me, please. Do you not understand? The ink… the blackness that came [out] the last time you sang [to] me, ‘twas the poison I’m inflicted with. This is not truly mad[ness], I swear it. It is an illness with a cure, a cure only [you] can provide. Please, please, I’m begging. ‘Tis not torture I’m asking for, but a cure. This is a cure. You all are content [to] sell me as mad and I have no pride to dispute it, but know that I am speak[ing] of something I know to be true here. You can cure me of my actual madness. Only you can stop the drums.” Yongguk begged.

They stood alone in the outside room, save for the mass of guards surrounding him to make sure he did nothing to harm Daehyun, despite the locked door that already prevented him. 

Jongup had taken the rest of their family to dinner in the main castle to avoid this terrible scene. Beside little Minyoung asleep in her cradle, only Yewon remained. She understood. She had been trying everything to convince her brother to listen and yet he still refused, convinced he would be the death of Yongguk if he were to finish the song. 

“I cannot bring himself to hurt you again. Twice is enough,” begged Daehyun. “Truly, must I torture the both of us?”

Yongguk’s foot drummed against the floor to the beat drumming him mad in his mind and he could feel himself churning with that poison that drowned his mind. Why would no one listen to him? Why did they all call him mad when he spoke of a cure? It was against his every instinct to be in the room he was in asking the person he was asking for the thing he was requesting, yet all had fallen into place not because of his madness, but in spite of it.

He was ill. He understood that he was ill. And, unlike what people had told him of his madness before, he recognized that his illness was an issue and sought out a cure, even if it would be long-winded, painful or difficult. He did not deserve to live a life of madness, as no one does, and he had chosen to put in every effort necessary to recover.

He said something sudden, something that begged dismay from Daehyun and Yewon alike once translated. It was rash, cruel, and untrue, but he was the only one to know that to be so. “He says he shan’t cure Minyoung until Daehyun cures him,” Junhong translated. Yongguk made it clear with his expression that such a statement was a lie and a ploy, but such things could not be understood through barriers, not language nor physical ones.

It was silent and uncomfortable for a long time. Finally, regretfully, without warning, the song came.

_ The Siren loves the sea as does the Sailor _

Once again, as it had been the first time, Yongguk fell to his hand and knees, bent over, and began retching and coughing and choking. Out from his lips poured that terrible ooze, coarse and colorless until it hit the ground. 

_ In such way their love was tailored  _ _   
_ _ ’twas made to be but not for me  _ _   
_ __ Keeping my Sailor is but a dream

It came from his ears, his nose, and some, though perhaps they were just tears, even came from his eyes. Yongguk’s gags and retchings came noisily and he lost and control or composure as the song shook through him.

_ My precious Sailor goes out with the tide _ _   
_ _ Never once will he stay by my side _ _   
_ _ I cannot hold him close, only let him be _ _   
_ _ for the only way to love is for your love to be free _ _   
_ __ for the only way to love is for your love to be free 

As that strange ooze found its place on the flood it started to grow cloudy and thin. Yongguk continued coughing up more, yet when Junhong came to try to pull him from the room he waved him off forcefully and refused to be moved.

_ ‘Tis not the tides that will bring you back to me _ _   
_ _ but there’s love in the wind that sets you out to sea _ _   
_ _ as Sailors come the bright winds lets them go _ _   
_ _ and the songs we sing that bring them home _ _   
_ _ ‘Tis not the cries that will bring you back to me _ _   
_ _ but there’s a song in the wind to pull you back from sea _ _   
_ _ as Sailors sail their Siren loves let them go _ _   
_ _ For in trust there is love beyond the unknown _ _   
_ __ and the songs we sing that bring them home

The ooze from his ears had all turned to blackened dust, yet no new, shiny layers of it came to cover up that which was wasting away. Junhong came with his own handkerchief to wipe the remnants away, then watched with confusion as no more came.

_ If I hold my Sailor close and demand he stay the night _ _   
_ _ possession, obsession shall only leave us in fights _ _   
_ _ yet if I let him go free and do as he please _ _   
_ _ then I shall always find he comes back safely _ _   
_ _ I have set my Sailor free long ago _ _   
_ _ Will he return I do not know _ _   
_ _ To love someone is to let them be _ _   
_ _ The best and happiest they can be _ _   
_ _ Even if that happiness doesn’t include me _ _   
_ _ For even the strongest of plants needs room to grow _ _   
_ __ And ‘tis not love to hold one back to be your own

Yongguk’s nose was the next to stop, and he was no longer producing ooze with every gag but rather it came infrequently, as if little by little it was clearing out of his system until only drips of it remained.

_ ‘Tis not the tides that will bring you back to me _ _   
_ _ but there’s love in the wind that sets you out to sea _ _   
_ _ as sailors come the bright winds lets them go _ _   
_ _ and the songs we sing that brings them home _ _   
_ _ ‘Tis not the cries that will bring you back to me _ _   
_ _ but there’s a song in the wind to pull you back from sea _ _   
_ _ as Sailors sail their Siren loves let them go _ _   
_ _ For in trust there is love beyond the unknown _ _   
_ _ and the songs we sing that bring them home _ _   
_ __ and the songs we sing that bring them home

Yongguk had straightened into sitting. His eyes were scrunched shut and his hands were on his head, but the color had quickly returned to him and he looked quite well and find beyond the dried black dust across his face. There were whispers of confusion amongst the guard to see the clouded liquid on the ground turning black like it had on Yongguk’s skin. Junhong rubbed his shoe against it only to find it disappeared into nothingness quickly.

_ I pray for you to come back to me _ _   
_ _ I pray for your voyage to take you safely _ _   
_ _ It’s been so long since you went out to sea _ _   
_ _ Won’t you please come back to me? _ _   
_ __ Dearest Ami

With the last three line, Yongguk fell forward one last time to retch up what seemed to be the very last of it. There was something excited about his expression when he finally straightened. “Daehyun!” He called with excitement. “Junhong, have him come out. Have him, please, I beg of you.” He near jumped up, a level of energy coursing through him that was most unusual. He made a short path to Minyoung’s crib and picked her up without a thought, and she held onto him with her little scaly hands and no screams nor cries of pain came.

Yet, when Yongguk looked at her with worry that his healing had failed him, he found she was as well as he was. Her scales had fallen to their feet. “Have Daehyun come,” ordered Yongguk again. 

 

Youngjae sat in a secluded corner of the castle, in a shipping port that had been abandoned years ago and only stood then as a secretive auxiliary should a naval war arise. He sat simply on the dock, with his shoes and socks pulled off in a less than proper way so that he could let his toes in the water. Any other onlooker would have judged him as an uncivilized sailor’s son, but Junhong instead joined him, farther than they would normally sit from one another, and stared out at the bay with him.

“Have I cut your fins in two,  _ Ip’pi _ ?” Junhong asked in Aiyuni. It had never been meant to be a full language, only a merchant’s tongue, yet between the two it had blossomed into something else entirely, a whole world in their hands.

“Have I burned your boat,  _ Ami _ ?” Youngjae parroted back. It all at once sounded as though he was sorrowful and jesting. His face, too, was twisted up in a peculiar way.

“Is now the time for a fool’s performance? Or should we speak of it?” Junhong replied.

“There is nothing to speak of,” said Youngjae.

Junhong sighed. “Yet, there is!” It was silent for a long moment. “You called me Amim all those years because you hated me,” he mumbled softly. “I knew not its meaning nor why you said it with such venom and here now I stand a fool, worried of my place with you and how this all must look in the eyes of history.”

“I also told the Royalty to let you drown and die, was that not enough to tell you my thoughts?” Youngjae shot back harshly.

“Then what had changed? Or have I cut your fin in two?”

“How could you think anything of the sort, love?” Youngjae chastised affectionately. “Was it not me who came, head bowed in fear, to ask for you hand in the matter? Was it not me who plotted with our foster King to arrange such a impudent and brazen confession?” His hand reached over to lay over top of Junhong’s.

Junhong quickly pulled his hand away and folded it in his lap with the other, “and is it not me who… in almost all normal evenings—”

“Love, it matters not,” said Youngjae. “Has it ever seemed as though I was anything less than a smitten cohort? I have come to you as much as you to me, and we have always been quick and earnest about our feelings on the matter. Just from history long since dead you cannot presume our relationship has been a farce.”

“Why had you never told me?” Junhong asked.

“Had you missed the part where we were being murdered for revealing ourselves? I stand at only a quarter so perhaps they would do me the kindness of leaving me alive, but they would do so after robbing me of my tongue,” said Youngjae. It was silent for a long moment. “You know it is not in my nature to trust, love. It was nothing I had the fortune to learn.”

“I wish to be cross with you, for we have been married a year now and I feel as though you should have learned to trust me by now, yet I can’t for I understand you. Of the same boat, we’ve said.”

“Locked in the same cell,” Youngjae agreed.

“Your cell was much nicer than mine,” teased Junhong. “Still, then, to know we sit together, still, against the history or our peoples, I’m well happier than I feel I can afford. Yet, always, love, if I get too close to your fin you must warn me. I shall ask as I always do, but the more I am assured the finer I shall be.”

“Then you shall be the finest of them all,” promised Youngjae with a mischievous sparkle to his eyes. “Now then, dearest Sailor, shall you reel me in?”


	16. 14. Pernicious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comments are super duper appreciated ^^ Ahh I'm sad, this story is almost done TT I think it will be two more chapters and an epilogue TT (subject to change)

_ I fear my heart to be pernicious _ _   
_ _ That I shall inflict wounds _ _   
_ _ Let me not become poisonous _ _   
_ _ And my heart to move on soon _ _   
_ _ I know I cannot hold you _ _   
_ _ I know I should not bind _ _   
_ _ Wedding bells clear me through _ _   
_ __ And a new love I shall find

_ Spirits save me from my pernicious heart _ _   
_ _ Let me shine brightly in this, a new start _ _   
_ _ Ip’pi let me find the way to love again _ _   
_ _ Heartbreak be a thing to find strength in _ _   
_ _ Stop my heart from growing pernicious _ _   
_ _ Stop my mind from turning envious _ _   
_ _ Stop me from becoming poisonous _ _   
_ _ Let this be good for both of us _ _   
_ __ Oh, stop me please, don’t let me—

_ I’ll sacrifice my every thought of you _ _   
_ _ Every moment we shared, too _ _   
_ _ Every brush of your hand through my hair _ _   
_ _ Every smile, every stare _ _   
_ _ Every good moment and bad, it’s only fair _ _   
_ _ I’ll sacrifice my every loss with you _ _   
_ _ The me that I was shall be lost too _ _   
_ _ As a brighter me comes through _ _   
_ _ I’m better to have known you _ _   
_ __ And I’m better to have lost you too

_ Let it all go _ _   
_ _ Let it all go _

_ Spirits save me from my pernicious heart _ _   
_ _ Let me shine brightly in this a new start _ _   
_ _ Ip’pi let me find the way to love again _ _   
_ _ Heartbreak be a thing to find strength in _ _   
_ _ Stop my heart from growing pernicious _ _   
_ _ Stop my mind from turning envious _ _   
_ _ Stop me from becoming poisonous _ _   
_ _ Let this be good for both of us _ _   
_ __ Oh, stop me please, don’t let me— 

Daehyun sat alone on the balcony as his song ran out amongst the garden below. Fireflies left small glowing marks in between the verses of his sad, slow song, and slowly lit him up until he felt more airy and free.

“Should I be afraid to have heard you?” Jongup’s voice cleared through the air behind him. “It was a sweet song, as sad as it seemed. You’re quite talented.”

Daehyun barely moved, not even as weight settled beside him as it had already settled in his heart. His cheeks were wet and ruddy. He sat with slumped shoulders and disobediently pouty lower lip. “It shan’t have an effect on you, unless I were to direct it differently than I had,” said Daehyun.

“Then who shall it affect?” Jongup asked.

“My own pernicious heart,” replied Daehyun, “for I have loved unilaterally for too long, and your brother’s hand shall be held tomorrow by someone in my stead. The song shall reverse my heart break in time, by morning I shall have no love left for him.”

“Shall you hate him?” 

Daehyun finally broke his stillness to shake his head. “Not an ounce. I shan’t love nor hate him, I and he shall only be, on equal and steady ground, strangers to each other.” There was a pause, one where Jongup looked at him quite intensely. “I take it you have not seen him, then. He is a mad scientist for sure, and yet in his madness is genius. He is cured of me, and soon as the song purifies me, I of him, and even Minyoungie shan’t feel ill again, so one might say all is well.”

“She is no longer scaled, then?” Jongup asked.

“Her days as a fish have ended,” joked Daehyun. “Yongguk held her once I had cleaned the ink off of him, and they fell to the ground without so much as a whine from her. ‘Tis a great resolution, of sorts, and it truly feels as though it should be the end.”

“The end?” Jongup asked.

“Am I strange?” asked Daehyun. “‘Tis perhaps just a feeling in my own heart, but it does quite seem to be the end of a great saga, does it not? A story that has wound itself around our two families and put us in turmoil, now that story has come to an end.”

“I think not,” said Jongup. “The contest is but a night away, by morning there shall be quite bit more story to be had. Shan’t we wait a little longer, then? Until we may face the happiest sort of ending? Then we might as well close the book.” It held very little meaning, besides being a jest to make Daehyun sullen demeanor brighten.

For all its oddity, Daehyun certainly chuckled. “Say, I was thinking, then. Would it not be quite embarrassing to marry a girl rejected by your brother?”

“What do you mean?” asked Jongup.

“Binnie, your Majesty. Shan’t it look… a bit sad if she were to stand in the contest tomorrow, only to be rejected and re-brought to the public as your own love?”

“And what is to be done of it?” Jongup shrugged. “There must be a contestant from Ipa, and your name has been removed.”

Daehyun settled back on the bench and chewed on his lip, an uncertain air about him. “I thought it might as well be me that was to stand, such that she would seem to gain your attention by relation to a candidate, without necessitating her rejection by Yongguk. Moreso, one might claim she had chosen to step down from the contest after having the fortune of meeting the King only once, and so quickly growing smitten that she could think of no other. Perhaps my name is to be readmitted on the claim that I had only withdrawn to take care of our youngest.”

“You are of the same heart as I,” laughed Jongup, “yet not quite the snake I am, I’ll admit. ‘Tis a fair scheme, and if you don't mind standing pointlessly in her stead, just so the contest has a candidate from Ipa, then it shall be well with me.”

“Then it shall be well with you,” answered Daehyun.

Jongup’s fingers drummed against his knees for a long moment before he spoke again. “May I ask if we are well with you then? She and I?” He looked over with a long and desperate gaze, but Daehyun’s stillness left no intention of meeting his eye.

“You are tolerable, I suppose,” said Daehyun. After a moment, he looked over with a wider sort of grin. “I’m kidding, your Majesty, you’re well and fine with me. I thought Binnie should have already told you of the plot at foot, but if she hasn’t then I suppose it matters not. If you continue to hold no anger for me for my disagreeableness and no contempt, only desperation to have her as your queen, than I shall let her go.”

The smile on Jongup’s lips was deafening. “I know well enough you shall raise armies against me if I ever gave her a reason to be even simply dissatisfied with me, I swear it.”

Daehyun found himself smiling back. Something uncoiled slowly in his heart, until his breath came easier and the tears he held back ceased to be. “We are cut from the same cloth, your Majesty, if I were to be bold out of place again. Both of us seem to be almost senselessly overprotective sorts.”

“‘Tis how I know you are a good man,” replied Jongup. “If I were to be bold, again, as if this conversation had not happened once before and my boldness had not been tolerated then, I would say I think all shall be well, and moreover, that if you were to meet my brother as a stranger tomorrow, and the two of you were to find yourselves in each other’s company again, and you were, even more ludicrously, to end up in a situation where you were bound together by law and love, I would be quite happy to give him away to you.”

Daehyun laughed. “Now that would be a bold and impossible thing to say, wouldn’t it? For we both know a situation of the sort won’t come. Yet, admittedly, if you would have been so bold as to say that, I would feel bold enough to reply how much I appreciate the sentiment, no matter how impossible the scenario.”

“I believe you mean ‘unlikely’, “ said Jongup.

“Unlikely?”

“‘No matter how unlikely the scenario’ is what I believe you meant to say. For it is no more impossible than the King to fall in love with a peasant girl born of the children of Sirens. Perhaps I am even the son of a dragon and the moon, nothing seems quite impossible any more.”

Daehyun laughed warmly. “Indeed it does seem that way.”

It was silent for such a long moment that one might think they did not intend to speak again at all, yet slowly over time, boldness built its way back up until a single thought could break the silence. “Daehyun, thank you,” said Jongup.

“For what?” Daehyun replied.

“Well, for everything,” said Jongup. 

“For cursing your brother and trying to rob you of your love?” Daehyun jested.

Jongup thinned his lips. “No, but for raising her and your other siblings so well after such a tragedy fell on you. For allowing them all to come here. For trying to sacrifice yourself to what you thought would be your torturous death just to ascertain they’d be well-fed. For responding to the curse you put on my brother by accident so immediately and selflessly, and for curing him even though it would perhaps harm you. And, for trusting me with your sister, and for standing in her place tomorrow.”

“I have only ever done what seemed right to me,” said Daehyun.

“Then you are a better man than most,” replied Jongup, “and despite its unlikeliness, I quite hope Yongguk shall choose you tomorrow.”

“You wish for something truly impossible then. I shall have no heart left for him and he, while cleared of his ire and hatred, has no heart left for me. We are only to be left with our most basic and unchangeable views on one another’s characters. With no love, we shall not find ourselves together.”

“You say your most basic impressions of character will remain?” Jongup asked. “And that his own of your personality remain?”

“Indeed so.”

“Then the two of you shall be.” Jongup hit his hand against his knee. “I am certain of it. By tomorrow evening you shall be betrothed. I am not a betting man, and yet this is a conclusion I would be willing to bet on.”

“For you have something you truly wish to lose?” Daehyun jested.

“For I have all the confidence in the world that the two of you hold one another in the highest regard regardless of fickle matters like love. Besides that, you have many selling points to him— in many ways, you are more ideal than any of the young women tucked away in this castle.”

“How so?” Asked Daehyun. “Are you to tell me I can suddenly birth children, or that he can?”

“No, but the children are already born, and already care for him quite genuinely. He knows he will not lose you to childbirth, that there are less risks of your meeting with an untimely death, which certainly would otherwise have him a nervous wreck for years. Instead he shall have his wish for a family fulfilled easily, and know already his spouse is safe and prepared for the burden, that the children shall love and accept him as he is, and that his spouse shall be loyal and honest to him as you have been,” said Jongup. “And there is one advantage in meeting him that you hold and no other candidate does, one that I am certain shall seal your fate.”

“What would that be?” Daehyun asked. “Simply that I am familiar?”

“No, not that. Rather, you respect him, and you shall continue to respect him once you’ve drowned your love for him, and he respects you. There is respect and trust already there.”

“I think you are mad,” laughed Daehyun. “Genuinely, truly, Your Majesty, you have lost all sense, have you not? But it is a well sort of madness, or perhaps just trickery to further convince my pernicious heart to stand in Binnie’s stead. ‘Tis well, ‘tis well. I know he shall choose one of the amiable young ladies brought here, Himchan has even briefed me on the most likely candidates. Or, rather, he had spoke about it in passing to Yerim during her stay, and she had passed such knowledge on to Yewon, who told Yejun, who then told me, for that boy cannot lie to me when I resemble his father as closely as I do.”

“I fear I shall never be able to keep your siblings straight,” laughed Jongup.

“So long as you remember which one is to be your wife, I think they shan’t mind it. The three youngest we seldom call anything but ‘Minnie’ for the same reason— the twins look too similar and until Minyoung gets older or regains her scales, we struggle to remember she is not just a younger version of the pair.”

Jongup laughed again. “Well then, in such a happy night, I think the sweet dreams shall beckon us soon. I shall be grateful to see you stand tomorrow, and delighted when he chooses you.”

“And what shall you bet me on his choice?” Daehyun grinned. “You for his choice of my hand, mine for his hand to go to anyone else. You said you were confident enough to bet on it, and while I am no betting man myself, I am confident myself that he shall pick someone else.”

“Hubris,” Jongup scoffed, but he was smiling. “How about a deal as such: if I am wrong, I shall help you win the hand of whatever unmarried Sir or Madam your heart is next stolen by, no matter who, and if you are wrong, then when all is said and done, Binnie and I shall adopt the twins, Yejun and Yuri, while the rest of your family will remain with you?”

“If they agree to it, then surely, if not, you shall have to pick again,” said Daehyun. “Although there is no need, for you are wrong.”

“I shall be right. I shan’t even talk to Yongguk until the contest is over and still I shall be right.”

“The mad King shall keep his silence, then?” Daehyun laughed.

“I shall have your head,” Jongup jested in return.


	17. 15. The Sailor's Song (Reprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> avoid your feelings by reading this extra long chapter!!^^
> 
> comments are super duper 100% appreciated lets all avoid feeling stuff together yeah!~

Yongguk barely paid mind to the servants buzzing around him beyond when he was requested to move. They had had him up and out of bed early in the morning and had been primping and polishing him ever since for the contest to take place at midday. Himchan sat propped on the dresser but it had been nearly ten minutes since either spoke.

It was after the twentieth time the same servant went fussing with the front of his hair that Himchan finally spoke up again. “You can turn them all away, if you wish.”

“Are you giving me permission?” Yongguk replied with half of a smile.

“Only reminding you,” said Himchan. “I shall fight Jongup in a treasonous duel myself if he tries to insist on your marriage.” He tilted his head to the side as the strand on Yongguk’s forehead refused to stand right.

“‘Tis not worth the effort,” he told the servant. “Whoever I choose has already accepted my hand just by accepting their place in line, I doubt a strand of hair out of place shall convince them otherwise. Leave it here, and if Jongup is cross, let him be cross with me. I doubt he shall even notice something amiss.” He withdrew to a straighter posture as the lot of them withdrew to leave the room. “Jongup has said himself that I need not pick, worry not. So long as it is not his Binnie who I choose and I still pretend this farce shall be a reality, he shan’t care for the rest of the procedure.”

“Then you shall turn them all away?” Himchan asked.

“I shan’t make a decision until I’m there, Himchan, but there is only one scenario I can see myself taking one of their hands, and ‘tis indeed an impossible one,” said Yongguk. “If nothing else, you may take refuge in knowing my main motivation for compliance in this whole ordeal is because ‘tis one of the few moments in my life in which I shall be ‘in’ on one of my brother’s schemes when it is revealed.”

“In what way?”

Yongguk came to look at himself in the mirror, giving his reflection barely a moment’s glance before he turned from it again. “Only the candidates from Ipa had learned of our identities, all the rest have yet to learn that I, the advisor who visited them on occasion, am in fact the prince they wished to woo.”

“Shall it be a momentous reveal?” Himchan asked.

Yongguk shrugged and look back at himself briefly. “Perhaps several shall quit the contest then and there. To lie to them so blatantly for so long about the most basic information of who I am and expect forgiveness… the fact that Binnie has even forgiven Jongup for the matter is more than anyone could expect.”

“She is a forgiving sort,” said Himchan, “and to be fair, she is a smart girl. I think to some degree she knew there was truth being hidden.”

“Still yet, I imagine some great discussion amongst them upon the reveal. The candidate from Youngjae’s native Wayedi Province was even quite rude to me on my visits to her, and I wonder if her behavior shall change dramatically upon knowing me or if she shall quit from her disinterest. I was never sure if her disagreeableness was due to my stature or character, but in either case she is nearly a noble, and find herself more bold and prejudice than the others,” said Yongguk with bemusement. “I think above all else I should like to tease my brother by feigning interest in his Binnie. I thought I might even like to have a plot of my own regarding her and her supposed introduction to him.”

“Well, you shall have a hard time doing so,” said Himchan, “as she won’t stand in the contest. Perhaps I should have mentioned so earlier, but another candidate has offered to stand in her place to save Jongup from the exact embarrassment you had been plotting.”

“Who?” Yongguk asked with raised eyebrows and tightly drawn lips. “All of her sisters are much too young. Tell me it is someone of another family, I wish not to see Yerim or Yewon in that line and allow anyone to think I would even entertain the notion of marrying a child, even one as close to adulthood as Yerim. ‘Twould be an assault on my character most heinous.”

“‘Tis not a sister,” replied Himchan. “Daehyun has re-entered his name into the ring, and allowed Yubin to withdraw.”

“Daehyun?” Yongguk’s voice went soft and his eyes wide. “He does no think that due to our success that I…?”

“You wonder if because he had cured you of hatred last night that he entered in hopes you would love him once more? Indeed not,” promised Himchan. “From Jongup’s words it seems he has no notion whatsoever that he shall even be considered. He had supposedly even sung to himself last night a song meant to rob himself of any remnants of feeling for you, and indeed when I asked my dear cousin-to-be Yerim of the matter she confirmed that such a song existed to make him feel a stranger to you, and more-so that he had shown all the signs of having sung it. ‘Tis a service to the couple in question, with no mind for personal gain.”

“So he intends to stand simply to be rejected? With no notion that he shall even be considered?”

“Indeed that seems to be the case,” agreed Himchan. “He has no love for you left, Yongguk, just as you have none for him. Perhaps, for Yeri was unclear, perhaps he still finds admirable qualities in you as you do him— not affectionate ones but rather base notions of your character, for I doubt he could make himself forget you entirely, but his heart for you has been lost as yours has for him.” His fingers tapped against the dresser. “Why should that bother you so? Would Yubin not have been the same?”

Yongguk ignored his question entirely. “I have a request, Himchan, if you will allow me one. I know you shall conduct the ceremony, and I should like to add one moment to it, if you please.”

“I should have to run it by the King, but certainly, if you wish,” agreed Himchan. “What then?”

Yongguk looked at himself in the mirror again and adjusted his posture carefully. “I should like to ask of each candidate one thing, either a question or a request. I should like it more-so if Daehyun were the last in line.” When he turned back to Himchan any ounce of emotion or boldness was gone from his expression, besides a subtle hint of roguishness in his eyes.

“You quite worry me, peculiar Sir,” teased Himchan. “I shall have it be so with a promise that you shan’t torment him.”

“Then make it so,” agreed Yongguk.

Himchan tapped his fingers against the dresser and stared off into the distance quietly for minutes on end before he spoke up again. He had a dodgy sort of look about him, refusing to meet Yongguk’s eye. “I must wonder… with the ink cleared away… are you suddenly… is your request because…?”

“Because?” Yongguk asked.

“I must wonder if your feelings for that boy have returned, if you, perhaps, if I dare say it, love him once more?” Himchan looked down for a long moment, and then away. “Jiwoo is still young, Guk, and his Yerim is as well. As much as Jongup shan’t rush them and as much as they like one another… they are still so young… to be in love as they seem to be without pressure, to let this phase where they both worry their feeling are unrequited fester a little longer before it blossoms… I just… worry that rushing them would make it less… less.…” He struggled for words. “Do you love him, Yongguk? Now that you are cleared of ink, do you find yourself in love again?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Yongguk. “‘Tis not love, however… however I find that feelings of mine, my thoughts on who he is as a person, have not once changed over the course of knowing him. Siren-hearted, filled with ink, and now here clean— I think the same of Daehyun.”

“And what is it that you think of him?”

“He is… warm-hearted. One of the truly kindest, most warm, nicest, sweetest, most genuine people I have ever met. Even when I first met him those five years ago, he was kind and trusting. There is so much strength in his kindness. There is so much strength in the love he gives out to the world. He loves his siblings and children in general in such a good-natured and whole-hearted way that ‘tis enviable. Whether he is talented in something or not— and truth be told he has countless talents, singing being just the start of them— but whether the talent is there or isn’t, he works so endlessly hard and with such determination and ambition. I have heard from his sisters that there are times that he can seldom rest from how determined and single-minded he becomes. And his voice—”

“His voice which has twice poisoned you,” reminded Himchan.

Yongguk shot him a cold look before replying, “and twice saved me as well. ‘Tis so vibrant whether in song or speech. ‘Tis a comfort in away that rests at the tops of my dreams as if he has sung me to sleep at night. And… to say more of his physical attributes… well, I suppose it would be quite… false of me to imply— anyone would agree he is handsome. ‘Tis not just me, anyone can plainly see he is an attractive sort, with golden skin and a soft face, with his cheeks like mochi and lips like…. ‘Tis not my own personal thoughts, of course. ‘Tis plain to see. It’s undeniably how any sensible person would think of him. And a smile such as his, a smile so warm and endearing, so bright as if the sun was shining, that so literally takes his whole face as its delighted prisoner— well, all those things too, are simple and plain facts. It would be objective falsehood to say anything otherwise. ‘Tis not that I, personally, am attracted to him, nor is it that I, personally, feel quite warmed and welcomed and safe in his smile, no. No. To say that would be a falsehood, for truly that is just how he is, and how everyone thinks of him. And to—” Yongguk broke his speech to cough awkwardly, his face red— “to return to his character— what then? Why must you look at me in that way?” Yongguk asked.

Himchan fought back his smirk, eventually hiding his mouth with his hand. “What do you plan on requesting of him?” He asked.

“I shall only give him the opportunity to steal my heart one last time,” Yongguk said awkwardly, “if he does, I shall finally have some concrete reason to deny him, for it will finally be thievery of malice rather than misfortune. However…”

“If he fails to act selfishly and rather makes no attempt at your heart, then…?” Himchan filled in.

Yongguk coughed awkwardly again, “leave me if you will. I need some time by myself to prepare to face a crowd. You know how I am with that room. Out, out. I need time to myself,” he muttered as he rushed Himchan out. 

It was not long after, perhaps an hour or so, that he was fetched by Junhong to come to the grand hall. It had been decorated with fresh flowers in large stone planters and the nation’s flag along with those of each province, with no Avoshi flag in sight. He was welcomed through the grand doors and took steady long strides down the hall he seldom entered since his brother’s coronation. 

His heart pounded in his ears and choked him up in the throat, as it always did in that cursed hall. Yongguk hated it. Only meeting eyes with his brother on the throne brought any comfort to him. He bowed, not deep nor particularly respectful, and came to sit in a lesser throne by Jongup’s side.

“You are well?” Jongup whispered under the blare of trumpets. “I know your disdain of this place.”

“So long as I am not in your chair, my breath shall remain even,” replied Yongguk in a low voice. “I should find myself able to handle my existence here so long as you are King and I am not.” There was a soft look shared between them, and then their conversation was halted by the introduction of the candidates, each led by the Lord of their province like a father would lead a bride to her groom.

“The candidates, as follows,” Himchan announced, “Haseul, from Jo. Kahei, from Ara. Sooyoung, from Eve. Jinsol, from the O.E.C.. Jungeun, from Kip.” Each girl came forward and curtsied as she was introduced. Most were bold enough to meet their eye, though Kahei, who Yongguk knew to be a merchant’s daughter, was better in form and kept her eyes low. “Hyojung, from Banha. Shiah, from the South County. Jisoo, from Wayedi. And, Daehyun, from Ipa.”

Junhong stepped forward then, in a moment in which he fulfilled Youngjae’s duties as he was still hiding in apparent embarrassment after the revelations of his family history, and introduced first Jongup as the king to the candidates— in Avoshi, of course, with a briefer yet translation into Banha-ale-mon for Hyojung and Shiah, who were relieved to hear their native tongue even if Avoshi was familiar to them. After he introduced Yongguk as well. Most of the more common girls stared at him, mouths agape and expressions thoroughly confused. Kahei had kept her eyes on the ground but smiled to herself, while Jisoo stared rather at Junhong with dismay, and Daehyun was thoroughly distracted by his siblings behind him, as the youngest three were fighting.

Jongup and Junhong shared a whispered conversation for a moment before Junhong requested something of Daehyun in Avoshi, who went to fetch the three youngest. Yubin helped him carry them forward to the line, at which point little Minwoo started hollering something involving Jongup’s name. Jongup called Yubin to bring him forward.

She was quite red as she brought the little boy to him, and seeing her deep-set blush made Jongup blush as well. The two shared a long look before both broke away to giggle to themselves, with Yubin covering her face and Jongup unable to hide his wide smile. Minwoo had shouted something to make the Avoshi crowd laugh, while both Jongup and Yubin found themselves hiding their faces.

“For those curious, all of these people are Daehyun of Ipa’s siblings, the younger half of whom have accidentally ended up in the King’s council before, some even as his ward. The little boy on His Majesty’s lap had demanded to be taken there, and upon His Majesty’s grace he was allowed, however he has just loudly told us all that, and I quote, ‘Ups! I gots to tell you something important. Binnie said she loves you!’” Junhong explained in Uslili, imitating a child’s voice when he translated Minwoo’s words.

Many of the Uslili nobles did not know how to respond, especially with Jongup still hiding his face, but Yongguk nearly burst into tears with how hard he was laughing. “Children are so bold it is almost senseless,” Himchan said with a smile. “Have Miss Yubin return to her seat, if she will. Whichever Min that may be, he may stay for the ceremony so long as he doesn’t fuss. The other two may go back with their sister or stay with Daehyun if he shall permit it.” Jongup nodded to show his agreement to the plan, and so Junhong translated, and Daehyun was left with Minhyuk while little, non-scaly Minyoung toddled back with Yubin to where the rest were sitting.

“If it so pleases his Majesty, his Royal Highness, Prince Yongguk shall now make a request of each candidate.” Himchan announced. With Jongup’s repeated approval, though his face was still red and buried in his hands, Junhong translated his words and Yongguk was told to make his requests.

“Miss Haseul of Jo,” he requested. She stepped forward. “How is your sister?”

With translation form Junhong, she replied, “she is well, but impatient. I would have her here if the city air were not so bad for her, but as it is I believe I must sadly resign my name and return to care for her.”

“I shall see to it you have all you need to care for her,” promised Yongguk. “I wish you well in Jo, and her as well. Miss Kahei, from Ara. Miss Sooyoung, from Eve. Miss Jinsol, from the O.E.C.. Miss Jungeun, from Kip.” The four girls stepped forward, with pairs being formed between them. “Shall you two pairs have a joint wedding, or separate?” Yongguk asked in a kind tone with a knowing smile. “We shall host it for you, if you wish.”

Kahei, who spoke Uslili well enough, replied for she and Sooyoung, “we should like to return and marry in Eve, your Royal Highness. We would be so grateful to receive your blessing to withdraw our names from consideration.”

“I am just happy to have brought you together,” replied Yongguk. “Send us the expenses along with the invite, my brother and I shall happily handle it.”

Once Jinsol and Jungeun heard the translation they seemed quite gleeful, and curtsied twice more in gratitude. “We should like to move to the O.E.C. together, Sir,” they said through Junhong, “the island life should quite suit us both.”

“And I should offer the same to you as I did the other pair,” Yongguk agreed. “I wish you all well in your lives and loves. Then, Hyojung, from Banha. Is your mother still ill?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said through Junhong.

“Then I shall see to it her expenses are taken care of,” Yongguk promised. For both Shiah and Jisoo, he simply asked them how they were and received the normal pleasantries in response. “Daehyun of Ipa, then, son of the children of Sirens.”

Daehyun stepped forward with his lips pulled into a tight line and his eyebrows drawn together. He crossed his arms over his chest as he waited, seeming distrustful in that he was called forward at all. Several of the Avoshi girls seemed wary of him, but none were outright afraid nor cruel. Rather than the expected clamor of disdain from Daehyun’s revealed heritage, there was rather a murmur of quiet and uncertain worry.

Yongguk turned to Minwoo rather than Daehyun. “This little one is one of their ‘Minnie’s, correct?” He asked Jongup.

“Indeed so,” said Jongup. “I believe it is Minwoo, the child who stayed as my ward.”

“Ask Minwoo then if he knows any of the Siren’s Song, if you please, brother.” Yongguk said with a small glint in his eye. “And ask him, too, if he ever lies, for he must in this instance most definitely tell the truth. If you please, ask him quietly.”

Jongup whispered to the little boy and got his answer back, with Minwoo clasping his little hands around his mouth and whispering loudly. “He knows the tune but not the words,” said Jongup. “And in regards to lying he has promised he knows well that lying is bad for when he lies Daehyun get quite cross, and so he won’t for he wishes ‘to plays with Minnie and Minnie all days and maybe [he] can’ts if [he] gets in trouble’. All in one breath, he had said all of that.”

“Then Minwoo has a very important mission, later on. For now, Junhong, please ask Daehyun to sing to me, one of his siren songs if he pleases.”

Junhong stared at him for a long moment. “Are you yet mad?” He asked quietly, despite the scandalized gasps of the Usli nobles at his boldness.

“Regardless of my intent you always think I’m mad,” Yongguk scolded. “Ask him then, I’m saner than you.”

Daehyun, too, shared the sentiment that Yongguk had lost his mind, but was pressed to sing regardless. In the last moment, he looked with a baited breath and panicked expression back to his middle brother, sighed to himself, and then began to sing.

The tune did not worm its way through his ear, nor did it slither down his spine, nor coil around his heart. Rather it surrounded him, warm and familiar. He swam in it, and found in doing so that he would be quite content to actually swim as well. A strange notion came about him, one distantly familiar, of wishing to dive into a large, wide lake and swim out to the center, to twist himself up in a net and let a fisherman pull him out into the great unknown. Yet, it was all baited. The urge was not strong, and it died with the end of the song.

The Avoshi commoners and nobles had all shrunk away and covered their ears, all but Shiah and Jinsol, who rather listened on with curiosity.

With the song at its end and Daehyun looking quite nervous, Yongguk turned to Jongup, “ask Minwoo then, what song his brother just sung and what the song does.”

Jongup did so, grinning as the little boy struggled along with his explanation until one of Daehyun’s other very young siblings got frustrated and yelled the answer out for him. Jongup then translated, “well, Minwoo thinks it was either the Fisherman’s Song or Daehyun’s calling song, and his sister over there insists it was that fishing one. If it was the fishing one, then it makes fish want to jump into their net, and he said it doesn’t affect humans, but sometimes when he hears it he wants to go swimming. If it was his calling song, as I believe we both know, it would simply make you wish to stand near him.”

“Then it was the Fisherman’s Song, for while I listened to it, I wished to go swimming. All is well then. If there is nothing else, I shall be ready to make my decision,” said Yongguk.

“If it is well to you, My Prince, they must first make their cases to you,” said Himchan. With a comment that it was well, he stepped forward to announce, “the candidates should now make their final pleas for the Prince’s hand. Those that have technically resigned may say whatever they wish, I suppose.”

Junhong translated, and then each candidate was beckoned forward one by one.

“Thank you for worrying as I do over my sister, Sir,” said Haseul. “Also, if it pleases the King, he and the maiden before would make a lovely couple, and I do hope they have a chance to talk.” She blushed red as she ended the notion on, and clumsily curtsied again when Junhong had finished translating.

Jongup’s face turned red and he cursed under his breath as he hid his face again. After a moment, he realized what he had said and covered Minwoo’s ears as he suffered.

Kahei came forward next, and with a small smile, said, “I must thank you again, Sir, for your blessing and for introducing me to Sooyoung.””

Sooyoung did not wait for her betrothed to step back before she continued on, “it was a strange time here in the castle, in which we sat together in gardens or our quarters with no work and felt as if we did not exist at all, but I am happy to have come here and met Kahei, and I too think the King should couple with that maiden. If it is not too bold to say so, then if nothing else, they should marry for his blush whenever she is mentioned is very much amusing.”

Yongguk and Himchan both laughed for a long moment after that was said, and then Jinsol was beckoned forward and Jungeun came forward with her.

“We would simply like to say thank you, Sir, and nothing more,” Jinsol said, and then the pair stepped back and giggled in a whispered conversation to one another.

Hyojung stepped forward next, and with hesitation, said, “I would like to thank you, Sir, for all the worry and kindness you’ve shown me for my mother. I know we have not spent much time together, but I believe you to be a truly kind-hearted and intelligent man, even if you had lied to me about your identity. I shan’t beg for you to pick me for I think you should do as your heart tells you, but I would certainly be happy to spend my life with a man like you.”

Shiah was the next in line, though her thoughts were more muddled and it took longer for her to speak. “I am not sure, Sir, what to say to you here. Before I knew your identity, I had a speech in mind but now I am speechless. I should hope, only, that whatever illness of yours postponed this day has healed or will do so, and that among us is someone you shall truly love.”

“I must apologize for my earlier behavior, Your Royal Highness. If I had known who you were I should not have acted as I did,” said Jisoo, “but I still must beseech you to choose me, for I am the only one amongst the line to truly understand you. These people of little wealth and stature shall never grasp the more finer things that you and I know well. They shan’t make good company. Here they are even suggesting your brother, His Majesty, should take a  _ Siren _ commoner as his queen? Truly then, an Ippim? They are mad.”

Yongguk thinned his lips and turned to Jongup to say a very calm, “I’ve always prefered madness, haven’t I?”

“Indeed, I believe so,” said Jongup.

“And the daughter of the children of sirens, Miss Yubin, I must admit she is quite fetching. I’ve spoken to her before and I have found her to be quite the diplomatic and intelligent sort, though I’ve never heard her sing so I can’t say how well she is at being a siren. How would you feel about a cup’s worth of madness, then?”

“Only a cup’s worth?” Jongup laughed. “Ask the cooks for a full round, enough for everyone. ‘Tis no fun otherwise. If I was not the boy King once, what more is at stake?”

“Indeed. Madness simply suits us then,” Yongguk agreed. 

“Daehyun, then,” Himchan requested.

Daehyun, quite amused by the translation of their conversation, stepped forward. “If madness suits you, my sister is very much available, your Majesty. My only objection being— of course there is an objection, of course, for I am an older brother— that while I believe you shall always tie in chess from what I understand of your chess game, that I believe you shall never beat her in Go, again from what I hear of your own abilities, Sire. Shall you stand for it?”

“For a steady knock in my hubris— hubris, the folly of man? Yes, indeed I shall take that medicine,” Jongup replied in Avoshi before Junhong could translate, though he did translate both sides of the conversation.

“Well then, I beseech you to find yourselves introduced,” said Daehyun. “Now then, if I were to say my own thoughts on the matter at hand— and I do see the dilemma at hand, Your Royal Highness. Your choices have narrowed most intensely, but I still think the winner is among us. Miss Hyojung seems to be well-spoken, understanding, and kind. She gives off a sort of motherly feeling, even. If you’d like my opinion on the matter, I would pick her. I suppose Shiah would also be alright, though clearly Jisoo is the wrong choice.”

“And what of yourself?” Himchan pressed once Junhong translated.

“Yes, what of us, Daehyun?” Yongguk goaded.

As soon as the translation was aired, Daehyun seemed taken aback. “As for us, Yongguk, I think we both already know what we are— how we are. There had been a time between us when all felt right, and as giddy and floating as that time had made me feel, and as much as we might wish to cling onto the happiness it gave us, we should not dwell in it. Those who dwell in memories of happiness past only trap themselves in emptiness. We should not chase what we once had. There was… there was a song I sung to myself the night before, one to end my eyes for you. It has a line I should like to translate for you, though I worry that from Ipparim to Avoshi, and from Avoshi to Uslili, it shall lose some of itself along the way. ‘I am better to have loved you, and I am better to have lost you, too,’ Sir. ‘Tis heartbreaking when things do not work out, and we might feel as though, in blind nostalgia for some happiness once had, now lost, that we must cling to the past and do what we can to return to it, but there is no going back. What is done is done, and what we have lost cannot be regained. Choose someone to love, but find that hope somewhere else, for it won’t be me. We know that already.”

“Have you chosen, then?” Jongup asked Yongguk once Daehyun’s long speech had been translated.

“Indeed, I have,” said Yongguk. “More surprising, I suppose, is that I have chosen a person who stands in front of me, rather than none at all. As much as we had thought it not to be so given the candidates we were given, I find myself favoring one— or rather one seems to be that which I am looking for.”

Jongup’s smile was notably smug, as if he already knew the answer to his questions: “who then?”

“How do you feel about a cups worth of madness, Daehyun?” Yongguk asked. He came down from the platform to stand in front of Daehyun as he spoke, despite the fact that Junhong, who was translating for them, still stood far away.

The Lord of Ipa beamed, but Daehyun, instead, found that his face fell into a quite fretful state. “Yongguk… I know not how to say what I’ve said once yet a second time. I love you not, and you the same for me. We have no love for one another.”

Yongguk shrugged. “I know that well, as do you. It should save us time that would have to be spent with the others, and perhaps their heartbreak would be resolved less amicably if they were chosen.”

“Then why?” Daehyun demanded.

“For you have a younger sister and I have a younger brother, and whenever the two look at one another they blush so red that their heads might as well pop. She shall make a fine queen and he a better King if he has her with him. I offer my hand to you not off some reckless dream of love between us, but because in practicum we shall get along well, no matter how lacking in romance. No love, only trust, respect, and happiness for our siblings.”

Daehyun opened his mouth with a small smile that gave him away, yet he was stopped before his answer could escape into the open air.

“Wait — only a moment– Junhong, I wish you not to translate what comes next,” said Jongup suddenly in Avoshi. “Daehyun, before you say anything on the matter, I must— I have heard from Himchan a detailed list of thoughts my brother has on you— good— good things I assure you, however, I feel— I fear I must ask you — and we shan’t translate what you say, I swear it, so speak your truth as harshly as you please — what are your thoughts on him? I know of the effects of last night, of course, yet…. On Yongguk’s character and form, what have you to say?”

“On his character and form?” Daehyun asked softly. His face shaded up to a golden pink. “Well you know as well as anyone that your brother is one of the most intelligent, moral, noble, and kind people to ever be— so good one can scarcely believe he is real. Despite my stature in regards to him, he has always, except in the most dire of times, accepted my will over his own, and humored me in moments in which I had grown to bold. He is the kindest soul I have ever met, and so bright and clever that I could never keep up with him. In the time that he learned Avoshi, he picked it up at twice the speed of my own Uslili and for that my envy knows no bounds. Beyond that, of course, we all know he is endlessly wise. We all know he is endlessly beautiful. We all know he is endlessly handsome. All these things are so obvious and plain to see that I can scarcely see a reason why I must say them. The intelligence, wisdom, and beauty of the moon coupled with the power, strength, and brilliance of a dragon— if there were ever a picture of your family history, Sire, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, it is Yongguk. ‘Tis plain and clear he is the best person to ever exist, and for that, for being able to have met him, I’m truly blessed.” 

“You are cleared to make your proposal,” said Jongup in Uslili with a warm smile. “I would happy to see you two fools bound to one another, for not even magic seems to change your stubborn, mad, foolish minds.”

Yongguk seemed uncertain for a small moment, with the beginnings of a happy grin on the corners of his lips, not yet daring to spread but from the Avoshi studies he now remembered feeling quite safe in his proposal. “Say then what you will to my cup of madness.” It was said in a soft and happy way, filled with nerve but with hope all the same.

“I might ask you for a gallon-full,” replied Daehyun with a small smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translation- our to idiots are getting married ^^
> 
> (remember!! trust bap babies <3333 this is not the end!)


	18. 16. The Best Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The last chapter! After this, probably next week, comes the epilogue, and I would like to say that the epilogue is just as vital to this story (in my mind) as the prologue is, so please stay tuned for that!
> 
> Normally I'd ask for everyone to leave their final thoughts and constructive criticism about the story here, and you are absolutely welcome to, but there's also good enough reason to wait until the epilogue is posted, so it's whichever you'd like. I'm super interested in reading everyone's thoughts and super welcoming to constructive criticism on the story, so please please feel free to leave me a comment! I might also try something new and actually post my own reflections and thoughts on this story, but I'll be posting it with the epilogue.

”I had a dream last night,” said Yewon as she kicked her feet that could not reach the ground from the high, garland-strewn bench. 

Her older sister, Yerim, let out a hum in acknowledgement, but kept her eyes fixed off to the side at Jiwoo speaking with her cousin and guardian, Himchan. “We all know you have no talent for dream magic unless it puts you in a stupor. If you are well enough to talk about it, then it shan’t happen.”

“Then you shan’t marry Jiwoo,” Yewon shot back.

“What now?” Yerim screeched, turning quickly to her sister. Her face quickly morphed into  bright red and she whipped her head around to stare down Jiwoo, who had looked over in shock and confusion but otherwise seemed none-the-wiser to what Yewon had said. Yerim offered a small nod of the head and a wave before turning back to her sister and hissing, “what is this dream you had of Jiwoo and I in wedlock?”

“Well, it didn’t put me in stupor so I suppose it shan’t matter,” said Yewon. “Why should I tell you of my nightly dreams when they shan’t come true?”

“Tell me this instant,” demanded Yerim.

“I think I should rather keep my dreams private.” Yewon turned up her nose.

Yerim grabbed her by her hair and yanked on her head. “Tell me now, Yewon, or I shall rip this fancy updo from your head and Yubin will say you were rough-housing and grow cross with you. What did you dream of?”

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” Yewon whined. 

“The two of you ought to stop or I’ll send you back to your quarters for the rest of the evening,” a voice came from behind them suddenly in Ippari, and both girls shrieked before turning it find Youngjae there. “Yerim, don’t ruin your sister’s hair, you know how long it took. Yewon, don’t torment Yerim if you clearly intended to tell her your dream. Watching the two of you was supposed to be the  _ easiest _ part of my day today, do not make it the hardest.”

“Your Ippari has really improved,” said Yerim, letting go of the back of Yewon’s hair. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Behave— both of you,” he scolded, before continuing off to wherever he had been rushing to.

“Then, tell me,” Yerim begged, grabbing onto Yewon’s arms, “please, please tell me. Dear prophetic little Yewon, genius little Yewon, with dreams that always come true. Bless you, bless you perfect little girl! Now. Tell me. Jiwoo and I? Married? What did you dream? Tell me now.”

“Well, it started simply with a scene of a lake, on which there was a boat with a lonely fisherman singing his song. Out from the lake he fished up the moon, which rose into the sky until night fell and then unfurled into a silver dragon which came down to lay in the water around the fisherman’s boat. The currents tried everything to push and pull them apart, yet they went no closer nor farther than where they had been, and where I think they truly ought to be. Yet each looked at the other as if the other could not see them, and many times over they turned away only to look back again, as if pulled by the tides to—”

“Yes, our brother and the Prince are in love despite all the magics they have been ill with, and neither are aware of it because they are both absolute fools who can’t comprehend how the magics had failed them. That’s all plain and clear and obvious and  _ boring _ . Skip ahead, will you?! What of me and Jiwoo?”

“I shall get there!” Yewon insisted. “Anyway, because you are as impatient as the four year olds, I shall skip ahead. So, the dragon had, and you are truly missing a lot of beauty and symbolism in the description here with your impish impatience—” she was hit over the head for such a statement— “the dragon had swept up the fisherman and they had flown up together towards the moon, which had returned over them in a beautiful sequence which you are forcing me to skip—”

“Oh, quit your whining and hurry to tell me!”

“Well, first, the moon and Earth had spun around one another a million, billion times over—”

“And as we all know you sleep long enough for that to actually be the case,” griped Yerim.

Yewon hit her on the arm, only for Youngjae to shoot the two a warning glare. “And from the Earth one flower bloomed, golden and elegant. From the moon came another, red, delicate, and sweet. The two flowers grew until they popped off their steps and spun around one another like dresses in a dance. And in those two dresses came to fill: one impatient sister of mine with hair a golden brown and one sweet Usli lass with a smile as wide as her cheeks, and they rounded each other in their dance as the moon and Earth rounded one another and then they fell into the depths of darkness until it was so bright I could seldom see, under a honeysuckle and tulip arch with funny little flightless tuxedo birds as their audience— each with a purple or peach bow tie— with a strawberry and grape covered wedding cake off to the side as the pair, you in lilac and Miss Jiwoo in a soft orange-y peach, were wed to the sound of bells.”

“Oh how lovely and eloquent a dream!” Yerim mused. “I should hope for it. I should pray for it. My heart for such a lovely day! Then, I shall hope you have found a prophecy, dear sister, and if it comes true I shan’t tease you a single day, a single hour, a single moment for the rest of my days! On my heart, I swear it!”

“You are as mad as all lovers, then,” teased Yewon kindly. “Had you no dreams?”

“Last night? I dreamt as much as the dead. But a week or so ago I had one…. I seldom thought to tell you since I have no mind for it to be true, yet it lasts with me in such a pungent way. I can feel it now on my arms, even. See! Look! Look how my hair stands on end. Perhaps it was more than the dream I thought it to be.”

“What was it then?” Yewon begged. “Oh please tell me! I told you mine, so please tell me yours!”

“Well, I dreamt of Daehyun and little Yejun, when he was not yet quite his current size, in a boat in a grand lake covered in the petals of purple lilacs and hydrangeas, surrounded by banks brimmed up with rose bushes. Daehyun had been singing to him and he had been listening when someone fell into the water with a loud splash and tangled themselves up into the fishing net. Yet when it was pulled up, it was not Yongguk— and then it was not Daehyun, but you, and not Yejun, but a girl quite like our little Minyoung, and the fish you caught was quite the loveliest, though I saw only but her back and her rosy gown.”

As Yerim brandished a wild look and her voice dropped low to bring in the next chapter of her wild tale, their eldest sister’s scoldings came to interrupt them in the most sudden and familiar of ways.

Yubin was there, being dragged down the aisle in her lovely blue gown, the color of the sea before the white sand-covered ground drop out from it, embellished with lovely moonstones and pearls that decorated her from head to toe from her doting lover. “What, what, what is it now? I am to give Daehyun away I cannot be in the stands with you. I shall be late if you keep me here, Yejun, surely you know that,” chastised Yubin. Yejun, who had been leading her by the hand, careful of the promise ring on her middle finger, didn’t stop until she had found herself by the younger pair of girls.

“I know it well enough, Binnie, I swear it, but bear with us through this course. Himchan, over there, has the time and I have bothered him to take you off when you both must flee us, but for now sit so we may present,” begged Yejun. He motioned over his twin, Yuri, who matched him in forest green, looking both much like nymphs out to play on grassy plains. Each had a small woven, brown leather cord around them— Yuri around her waist to tie the loose fitting green gown into some sort of flowing shape, though it still danced around her feet along with the breeze, and Yejun wrapped tight around both wrists, just barely escaping the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Yerim clicked her tongue, uncertain. “Present what?”

“Well, our findings, of course,” said Yejun, “or really, I should say Yuri’s findings. We all know well enough I am not the mastermind of our pair, but I did at least provide some data.” He clapped his twin sister on the shoulder as he spoke.

“Your findings?” Yubin asked in a slow and drawn out way, staring at the thirteen-year-old twins as if they had four heads.

“Well, as much findings as could be found, given that we only had the powers of observation and couldn’t manipulate the circumstance. There was also one trial, and only one pair in the trial, and I have been told by my governess of late that such findings are at times inaccurate, however—” Yejun rambled.

“Yuri,” Yewon cut in sweetly, “what was it, then? Sweet genius child, tell me what you concluded.”

“Well yes, do so, but tell us what you studied first!” Yerim insisted.

Yewon looked shocked. “You didn’t know?”

“We had noted that the love between our brother and his betrothed was quite intense from the start,” said Yuri, “so we observed and noted the feelings present in detail, and the evidence therein, both verbal and otherwise. At first I would like to claim it was simply in our nature at the age we are at— too young for love but old enough to take interest in it— and yet…. Upon discovering Daehyun’s folly, we had realized there was an unstudied topic now residing at our hands.”

“You studied the effects of the Siren’s Song?” Yubin asked.

Yuri nodded, saying, “or rather, what effects we expected, but did not occur. We, of course, know now that there is a procedure— three songs at hand: first one may curse with the Siren’s Song, and the effects are as expected. The cursed will feel a sudden and intense draw to the siren, and will wish to be as close to them as possible. When separated long term, it spells out a certain melancholic stupor and an endless wanderlust or quest for the siren. Interestingly, and this we can’t confirm, it seems the siren might feel a strong pull towards the person they had cursed as well.”

“You mean that Daehyun seemed to be as pulled towards Yongguk as Yongguk was pulled towards him? That would certainly, in many ways, explain their beginnings,” said Yewon.

“Especially those five years ago, when they bloomed silently,” agreed Yerim.

“We cannot confirm it,” repeated Yuri. “Still, the next step is Amarim. We were taught that true love could survive the singing of that song but all other positive feelings would be muted, moreover in the case of the Siren’s Song all positive notions would be turned negative. He was meant to hate every aspects and thought of Daehyun, and be unable to think of a singular positive aspect to Daehyun’s character and form.”

“We must thank Yewon for her data on that matter, but the findings from such data shall be described later on,” Yejun cut in. “Now, I believe, my sister shall present our first conclusion.”

Yuri nodded in agreement. “The first, and likely most pertinent conclusion of the matter is simple— The Sailor’s Song is a magic song. As much as we have all realized this, it is important to note officially within our findings that we were wrong, as a whole, about that song. It is magic— it brings back an Ami. We cannot say if it has any other effects beyond curing someone of the results of Amarim. Those three songs exist in a procedure, such that any further accidents can now be remedied quickly and with no real harm.”

“Well, no real harm behind the excruciating pain that song caused Yongguk,” said Yerim.

“That is true enough,” Yejun agreed. “Our second finding was that Amarim is bodily, not just an illness of psyche. At first we had thought Amarim caused the ink in Yongguk’s mind, but if that ink caused his memory loss and hatred, then why would it only affect those with a siren in their heart?”

“Rather,” Yuri cut in, “we believe the ink is present from the moment the siren forms during the Siren’s Song. It likely causes the very loving parts of mind within the Siren’s Song’s domain, and once the Siren is outed from it’s heart-built womb, it turns to hatred. We cannot prove this, nor can we devise even a theoretical means of testing it. However, that is not our most shocking conclusion.”

“Well, what is then?” Yubin asked.

“We believe none of the songs can affect genuine feelings,” said Yuri. “Regardless of sirens, regardless of the ink— not even Pernicious— genuine feelings cannot be changed nor erased by our magic.”

“The evidence has been overwhelming. Yongguk had so many praises for Daehyun when infected, ones toward his character that seemed atypical of the Siren’s Songs infection. Those praises, from Yewon, Himchan, and Yongguk himself’s reports remained the same during his phase infected with Amarim, and have remained the same for the year since he was cured and the pair were engaged. Daehyun, much the same, while recovered from heartbreak after singing Pernicious, had all the same feelings and praises for Yongguk,” explained Yejun.

“Our final conclusion, if you’ll let me,” Yuri spoke over her confused siblings, “is the least shocking: they love each other. They’ve loved each other this whole time. They are both simply too dumb and too convinced of magic to see it.”

“That we all know well,” agreed Yerim. “A year of doting engagement, of shy looks looks, of timid romance, and now, even on the day of the wedding, neither has realized their feelings nor that said feelings are reciprocated.” She paused, leaning back against Yewon. “So then our magic is much more limited than we thought, unable to touch the truest and most deeply held convictions. I suppose, perhaps, that is good.”

“I… I am afraid I must agree,” said Yubin. “It is… well, frankly, it is well and fine with me to know our magic is limited.

Shortly after, Yubin was beckoned off by Yongguk and Junhong came by with a pair of youngest siblings in tow, giving both of the 4 year old twins to Yewon and and Yerim. He sat behind them with Yuri and Yejun, on the grounds that the thirteen year olds were much more likely to misbehave than the older pair. Youngjae, for his part, had taken his place beside to officiant to translate that whole affair from Uslili to Avoshi and Avosi to Uslili.

The music came up— the great roll of drums and trumpeting of horns that silenced the stands in a surmounting and incredible noise until all, including themselves, were silenced.

From there on cue came the chorus, a lovely and airy sound led first by Yerim from her spot in the stands, carrying the rustle of leaves and the cheers of birds in her wood nymph’s tune. Following her came the two pixie’s playing in a grassy field, as Yejun and Yuri joined in on the tune in a playful manner. Finally joined in the babbling brook of Yewon’s song, and the four sang about their parts in a traditional fashion until they reached a harmony. Youngjae, the little twins, Minyoung, and even Junhong, unsteady but sweet, joined in on the rising harmony and carried the tune of Ippari tradition.

From the audience came a soft chant in ancient Uslili, from all those native to the state as it was a well-known tradition. Over the harmony it grew, the old words heavy on their tongues as their own tradition melted into the Ippari tradition. “When and where you are, then and there I am,” they chanted in a chorus.

Some of the Avoshi in the crowd sat still, hands held in their laps and mouths agape, confused and horrified by the deviance from their own standards. But more than those few was the mass of those attending, delighted as they tried their hands at the old Uslili words or, for the grandest majority of the Avoshi nobility, joining in on the Ippari chorus because a simple harmony without words seemed less daunting.

And under this grand symphony in which traditions met hand in hand, came Jongup down the aisle dressed in much the same way as Yubin had been, with a crown perched properly on top of his well-maintained hair and his brother, with a wide smile and a lesser crown of his own on top of his head. He was dressed in white but in a simple sort of way, with no real opulence to his clothes beside their formal design. Following him came Himchan and a train of his other close friends, save Junhong and Youngjae who had volunteered their exclusion to mind language and children.

The party came to the front, and Jongup took his place beside the officiant with Yongguk in front of him, and the others further to the side.

All turned back to the aisle as the chanting and harmonies stopped all at once.

Down the aisle came a delighted little cheer from a smiling little toddling girl on two legs. Little barely-three-year-old Minyoung looked up at Yuna, who was to help her, and asked a quiet, “now?”

When she was given a confirmation, she was delighted to open her mouth and sing a tumultuous little song of the sea, unskilled and unsteady, but delightful all the same. Helping her along came Yuna, just two weeks less than seven but much more steady on her feet and trained in her tune as she led the little girl out and helped her throw petals along the way; though admittedly while she scattered them, Minyoung mostly took handfuls and threw them on the ground, not out of any malice but rather simply from being at that age where one lacks all sorts of finesse.

When she reached the altar, she broke her song in her eagerness to participate in the only Avoshi tradition to join the wedding, and pulled the single white lily from the bottom of her basket and handing the flower to Yongguk. Yuna then beckoned her off to the stands where she put Minyoung on Junhong’s lap before sitting next to her sisters.

A trill came from the back of the aisle. Yubin stood alone at the back and soft tune as the Usli in the crowd shouted all at once, “When and where you are, then and there I am,” one final time. She stepped aside to reveal Daehyun there, dressed to match Yongguk, and he let out a long, sustained note for as long as he could hold it. The crowd stood their with mouths agape, all in awe of his voice, like a siren calling out to them and causing some stirring in their hearts.

With his note finished, it was silent. Yubin linked arms with her brother and led him down the aisle. Both two had their eyes locked forward— Yubin and Jongup sharing a look of rosy cheeks knowing that in less than a year the situation would be flipped and they would be meeting at the altar, and Daehyun and Yongguk sharing a blushed look as well.

Daehyun’s face had started to flush as he walked closer, and he took a hard gulp of air before looking away, down at his feet with nervousness. His heart was pounding in his ears like a maddening drum and he felt hot. He was still shaking when he looked up again, only to find his shoulders loosen and his lips turn up in a small smile at how Yongguk’s expression matched how he felt.

Yongguk’s face bloomed into a smile at Daehyun’s equal expression, until both boys were twisted up in the most pleased smiles they had ever worn as they reached one another. When they reached one another, Yongguk took his white lily and attached it to the pin in Daehyun’s dress shirt.

Yubin took one of Daehyun’s hands and one of Yongguk’s, while Jongup did the same with their other hands. At the same time, the pair joined their hands together, and then both stepped back to their places.

Finally, Daehyun looked up from their hands to meet Yongguk’s eyes, and the two matched gaze for just a moment before small smiles bloomed into immense laughter, both turning and looking away from one another as they tried to breathe out all the strange excitement building up in their hearts. Daehyun broke their hands to hold his face briefly and feel how hot it had become, and then dropped his hands down and let Yongguk take them again.

Hands held, the officiant began to speak in Uslili while Youngjae translated to Avoshi, yet it was as if neither heard because they were too caught up in one another’s smiles.

Finally the time for their vows came. “Yongguk,” Daehyun began in a steady voice, even and clear as he spoke out his memorized Uslili lines, “I have many things to vow to you today, the first and most pressing is that I vow to tolerate your position in life, though undesirable to someone like me.” He chuckled at his own joke.

There was laughter from the crowd. A warm smile spread across Yongguk’s face.

Daehyun’s eyes never left Yongguk’s face, even though Yongguk continued to look away with a wide smile. “I vow to teach you Ipparim, as I’ve been promising and failing to do for the past year since we were engaged, and to be the one to wake up early in the morning when the youngest three decide they must beat the roosters in crowing first. I vow to sit by you while you work silently, or rather, as quiet as I can be, as I still hold it can’t be true that you prefer no conversation at all. I vow to… to try my genuine hardest to be someone you can rely on and someone you can trust. I shall give my all to be the partner in life that you deserve. Included in that, of course, is the vow that I shan’t accidentally steal your heart singing the Siren’s Song to my younger brother.” 

The few in the know within the crowd laughed, however the rest stayed silent in polite confusion as Daehyun continued on.

“And… I vow to love you.” Daehyun’s face turned a bright red as he made his vow. Yongguk looked up at him with his smile fading for confusion, and Daehyun quickly in turn looked away, down at the floor by their sides. “I vow to love you most earnestly and whole-heartedly for the rest of my days, even if you think I ought not to. Even if we began this arrangement with the mind that neither of us had a heart for the other, and even if you do not want to be loved, I shall still love you in the ways that you are comfortable and the ways you deserve, because you are truly the most wonderful, most moral, most kind, and most intelligent person on this Earth, and you deserve any and every happiness I can manage to give you. I ask not that you return any of my feelings, only that you accept my loyalty, my respect, and my love.”

“And I vow—” Daehyun’s head whipped up when Yongguk started to speak. He looked over to Yubin accusingly, but she made a gesture and a face to show it hadn’t been her to translate and teach Yongguk his vows in Ipparim— “that you, Jung Daehyun, son of sirens, are the most important and special person in my life.”

Yewon, from her place in the stands of the audience, caught her brother’s attention briefly, pointed to herself, and winked, all as if to say she was the one to translate his speech to Ipparim.

Yongguk continued on, “I know not how to say how I feel about you. There were thoughts I’ve expressed about you, one that I know through the gossip vine that you’ve come to know in all detail, ones that I’ve even said while in your presence while praying your Uslili would be limited enough to not understand, and I, now, today, have the courage to say them in a way I am certain you will understand, provided your younger sister Yewon is as kind as I expect her to be in her translation. You are… You’re golden like the sun, in heart, in mind, in spirit, and in form. As I have mistakenly said in the past, ‘’tis not my own personal feelings on the matter but rather a statement of a true and universally known fact amongst anyone that has seen you, you are beautiful, kind, warm-hearted, and one of the most loving people I have ever met. I respect you as I respect no other and I trust you as I trust no other.”

Daehyun’s face had morphed into such an intense smile that it looked as though he might cry. 

“I know not what to vow to you, for I feel like anything I say will be too formal,” Yongguk continued, “I could vow you and your family shall always be well fed and taken care of, that I shall love your siblings as my own children. I could vow to always be kind and patient with you, or that I would do anything you asked me to if only to bring a smile to your face. Yet, those vows feel to well-known— that is to say, I think it must be obvious that I feel that way and shall do those things. Yewon would like me to note here that this is all very difficult to translate. In short, because I am so lacking in ability to speak to you, even now when I understand a fair deal of Avoshi, you seem to know all of Uslili, and your sister is helping me speak to you even clearer. I simply don’t know how to express how I feel. I must ask for your forgiveness.”

Yongguk paused for such a long moment that Daehyun thought he had finished, and indeed he had and the officiant had opened his mouth as if to continue the ceremony, only for Yongguk to stop him. His cheeks flushed pink and his words came out more stilted, as he thought of what to say as he said it. “Except,” his words came in his accented Avoshi, marking the end of what he had planned with Yewon, “except that I do know how to express myself to you now: I love you, too, Daehyun, and so long as we’re together, everything is going to be alright.”

“Then everything shall always be alright,” Daehyun replied in Uslili with a grin.

With waves from the pair at the officiant, drums came pounding, the choir sung, and trumpets played. The officiant turned to the crowd to pronounce, “now introducing the newly married couple: Prince Yongguk of Usli and Duke Daehyun of the Coast and Far Isles.”

  
_ Merriment lasted late into the night— _ _   
_ _ And everything is going to be alright— _ _   
_ _ Fare-thee-well into the dark _ _   
_ __ With the Siren’s song and the Sailor’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading! Please leave a comment and I'll see you in the epilogue ^^


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's over!~ Thank you all so so much for sticking with me through this whole story and for all the lovely comments!~ If you all could humor me one last time, I'd love to hear everyone's final thoughts on the story as a whole, what you liked, what you didn't lie, where you think I could improve, and anything else you want to say to me ^^ Constructive criticism is absolutely welcome (frankly I'll take outright criticism lmao) So please please please enjoy this epilogue and leave a comment about your thoughts! I'll be leaving a link to my own thoughts in the ending chapter notes
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://foxjae.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/youngjaebunny)

The air stung at her lungs— fresh, crisp, and cold as she drove her horse farther into the forest. The sounds of those chasing her had faded in the distance, until all that was left were her faithful horse’s hooves against the forest floor, the breaking of branches, and the brushing of bushes. Her canvas bag brought weight upon her side, reminding her of the sweet Queen who helped her steal off. In those moments, Seunghee was desperate for an escape.

A soft voice called to her, a siren in the distance, so faint it was like the whispers of faeries. At once she turned her horse in the direction of the song, captured and captivated in its softness as if it harkened her back to the days when things were simple, comfortable, and easy. With each moment the song grew in volume until the voice broke into two, one of a young woman and the other, softer and less practiced, of a young girl. She came upon a wide lake with a small dock across the way, dismounted, and tied the reins of her horse to a tree close to the water so he could rest and drink while she hid among the bushes and watched.

She felt an odd yearning in the very center of her chest; a stranger yet part of her mind begged her to dive into the lake and swim out to the center, to wind herself in circles around their boat like a free fish, and to let herself be found and forgotten by those she was watching.

There at the center of the lake sat two girls in an old wooden boat. One was older, likely in or nearing early adulthood, while the other could not be older than eight, more likely between the ages of five and seven. The older sang loudly and clearly as she pulled the fish from the net before pulling it into her boat, while the younger sang softer as she checked the fish hand let them back in the water. As Seunghee watched on, she noticed with alarm that the fish seemed to go from panicked and bloodied to well and calm, as if warmed by the song as Seunghee had been. Seunghee could not understand the language they sang in, but that was to be expected: there in the forests of Ipa to find a pair singing, surely they must be Ipparim? And of course, in the province of Ipa, in the land that was once Avoshi, in that the Middle and Northern areas of Usli, why would anyone be singing in her native Banha-ale-mon? She had no expectation to understand.

The older girl’s tune changed suddenly to something that drove the wish to swim into Seunghee’s heart, and a large fish jumped from the water to land in her lap. The song stopped as the younger girl burst into laughter and the older girl followed.

The two spoke for a couple moments and in that time, Seunghee went into her bag to fetch the snacks the Queen had packed upon discovering Seunghee’s plans to sneak out for the day.

(“Oh please! Oh please, sing it for me again!” begged Minyoung, sweet and airy with childish glee, in Ippari. Even though she was barely in early childhood, her grammar had neatly evened out. “Please, won’t you? There is no one around but me to hear you, I swear it!”

“Minyounggie,” Yewon laughed in reply. “You are endless, are you not? Daehyun will have our heads if he hears you are trying to learn it, you know how he worries about you.”

“Please?” Little Minyoung begged. “Just one more time before I find my own! I’m sure Gukkie will tell him to be light with us if he knows you were humoring me. You know how firm he is in our preservation.”

Yewon laughed again, “to go from no speech to that complex, Minnie, you are truly going to be the strongest siren of our generation. One might think it was all the time you spent as a fish? Will your Calling Song be the same as our Hyunnie’s?”

“I wasn’t a fish!” Minyoung cried. “I wasn’t, I wasn’t!” Yewon laughed on at the girl’s upset. “Please just sing it once more or I shall really turn into a fish and Daehyun will be cross!”

“Why must I sing it again, Minnie? ‘Tis like you are trying to learn it, but ‘tis not something you will ever sing yourself.”

“But… ‘tis such a nice tune.” She mumbled. “Please? Won’t you? I shall turn into a fish if you don’t!” 

Yewon laughed earnestly again. “I think your years as a fish are long behind you, Minnie, but if you insist and there truly is no one around, I suppose I can risk singing it to you once more.”)

Seunghee’s attention turned back to the lake when the conversation she had not understood ended as the older girl began another song.

Something heated in Seunghee’s heart as the water nymph’s song flowed over the light waves of the lake. She felt a sudden urge to run into the lake and catch herself up in the net along with the older girl.

The tune started at her fingertips and toes and snaked its way ‘round them ‘til it took on her hands and feet. It coiled around her wrists and ankles as it tried to drag her forward, slithered up her arms and legs and rung around her shoulders and hips. The young woman sang on, calling her, begging her to swim out, yet her rationality prevailed. All at once the tune came to its end and Seunghee felt her heart settle. She pressed a hand to it to feels its calm beating. There was no draw to the water left, no desire to wind herself up with the siren at the center of the lake, but rather a calm, comfortable feeling, as if all were well again.

Hooves prevailed in the distance, and Seunghee managed to get a good view of the young woman’s lovely face before she and the young girl went back to facing one another. They did not see her, but rather her sister and their guide who approached her hiding spot.

“Seunghee, you shouldn’t act this way,” called her sister, Jiho, in Banha-ale-mon, and it seemed the two girls went silent with their foreign tongue. “You knew you would be called upon to marry a noble one day.” She dismounted as well, as did their guide, Mihyun, whose attention seemed fixed on the two girls in the boat. Their horses were bound to the same tree as Seunghee’s and she stood up to face them.

“It’s not fair that Father has brought me here only to see if I am desirable to people I’ve never met, to pawn me off to someone of royal blood or family for favorable taxes,” replied Seunghee.

“You know you are not being sold, Seunghee. Father brought you here to see if you and any of the Ipparim children of the Prince got along well, with no promise nor expectation that you shall marry any of them,” chastised Jiho. “It would not hurt to at least meet the lot of them. I hear there’s near twenty, so surely one shall at least be suitable for friendship. This is simply how politics works, unfortunately.”

Seunghee grimaced. “Why must it be me? Surely you could marry one of them. Or become their friend, whichever.”

“Seunghee—” Jiho whined.

“Why must it always be me? Is it a curse of my birth, then? Oh, how I wish it to have been you who was born first, Jiho, for you have no idea the freedom you face. If it is such a natural fate, the you ought to marry one of them, not me.”

“I shall if you will it,” sighed Jiho, “but I am only seventeen. Such things are forbidden.”

Seunghee rolled her eyes. “Rather, you shan’t for you have sold yourself on becoming a knight, and father has me to pawn off to the royalty while you’re off on adventures. I hear then they have a boy your age oft taken by lady knights. Why don’t you woo him?”

“Perhaps I shall, if he and I get on,” Jiho agreed. “Just meet them, Seunghee, I beg of you. If they are undesirable to you, then we shall go and I shall stand with you against Father on the matter, but meet them first. Do not strike them off simply because Father likes them. Once he sees you happy with someone, genuinely in love with someone, all his worries of taxation and the border with South County and all else will come second to your happiness.”

Mihyun called out suddenly, and both girls listened, and then paused in confusion for they did not understand. From the boat, Seunghee’s siren had called back.

“What then say the girls of the water?” asked Jiho. “Should my sister follow suit with her birthright?”

“Aye,” agreed Mihyun. “Off with us, ‘en. I had told your father I’d see you both back to your places. Jiho, you must be off to dueling and Miss Seunghee, I’ve been told your hair for supper’ll take quite the ‘ours.”

“Mihyun, no, please,” begged Seunghee, “please might I just have a few hours of peace. I swear I shall be back by supper.”

“Rather lost in these woods you’ll be, then again,” Mihyun sigh and shouted out to the girls on the lake in Avoshi again, and after a brief conversation she was back to say, “those there sirens shall see you back to your place then. When they’re done with their lesson. Don’t stray.”

Seunghee’s mouth fell open and her face flushed. “Off with you then,” she agreed softly. She bid them adieu and turned back towards the lake.

The young woman on the boat made a grand gesture to the dock, so she led her horse quietly around the lake to where their own were tied. She found herself on their dock, next to their two pairs of riding shoes, and undid her own, pulling off her stockings so she could let her feet in the water.

Their voices danced over the lake as the Ipparim girls sang and Seunghee watched on in awe. Like Will-o’-the-wisps lighting paths to travelers, Seunghee felt a draw through the winding course of a forest of shallow waves to their boat. Their voices of the calm push and pull of the lake settled her heart so firmly and so strictly that her eyes fell shut.

It felt like only seconds later, and yet the sun which had been high in the sky was finding its will to set, when their voices tapered off and their boat caused wrinkles in the fabric of the lake.

She found herself standing, and more nobly, helping her lovely siren off of the small boat. The young woman busied herself with the contents of the boat while the little girl tried to make her escape, until Seunghee, taking pity, picked her up and put her solidly on the dock. “Thank you very much, Miss,” said the young woman.

“You speak Banha-ale-mon?” Seunghee replied.

“Yes, Miss. Very little,” she said. 

They carefully dragged the boat ashore, until it was near to the tree line, and turned it over once in place. 

“Home?” The young woman said pointing in the direction of the Lord of Ipa’s estate. She waved her hand towards the horses, waving Seunghee to follow her. Finally, when Seunghee did not budge, she grabbed her by the hand and repeated the word “home” over and over as she took her to her horse.

“Home,” Seunghee agreed.

They took off together, with the little girl on the young woman’s saddle, while the second horse simply carried their baggage. As they went on, she felt the forest grow thicker, until there were longer stretches with no clear path. The only safety she had if she lost them were their chattering voices.

In that time she lost herself to the peace of the forest, the singing of birds and rustling leaves. The air was clearer away from all of her anguish and fears, and Seunghee was quite hurt to think she would be returning to it momentarily.

As the coils of her heart unwound with the breeze, she found she could no longer hear the girls banter, though she still saw them clearly. There was hushed whisper of excitement between them, and the little girl looked back at Seunghee and cupped her own ears before looking forward again.

The wind carried a forest nymph’s voice, her song sweet and strengthening, steady and practiced. Her siren surged forward suddenly and she followed, and all at once she found the forest broke around them into a wide, well-maintained field. They raced their horse across it, their laughter like a babbling brook as the freed themselves under her song, until all at once the nymph was in front of them, an elegant woman dressed well enough to be royalty, with a sweet-looking redhead by her side, singing along.

They dismounted together and allowed a stable boy to take their horses, at which point Seunghee was quickly found by a maid and pulled off with a loud slew of scoldings.

The hall they met in for supper was small from the crowd and quaint, but Seunghee barely thought for such things beyond her stinging scalp from her hairdo and shortness of breath from her gown, and steadily shot the stink eye at her father when she finally entered the room, his hand clasped on the Lord of Ipa’s shoulder as the two laughed. When she wasn’t cross with him, she was always impressed with how many old war friends her father had — not just men he fought with, but many he had fought against.

(“Ah, here she is, my eldest! She’s the age of your daughter away at boarding, yet if you’ll stand my boastings, she’s finished her schoolings already. She plays six different instruments, all traditional to our province, speaks Amari, Wa-e, Ségardé, and the classical forms of Banha, Alé, and Mon — absolutely the darling of our province, she is, and quite the rider too! She’s tamed four stallions on her own and each is so loyal to her no one else may ride. My, I’ve never been prouder, though don’t tell little Jiho that. She’s off to be a knight and I’m proud of her as well, mind you, but dear Seunghee can do anything she wishes with ease on the first try,” The Duke of Banha told his old friend in Uslili, pride shining in his eyes.

“You’re an old sap of a man,” scoffed the Lord of Ipa affectionately. “Let’s have her introduced then, and your Jiho too. I hear that boy — you know, his Majesty’s dear ward — is quite flushed by the knightly types, and the King had me promise to help find a few to try their hand at him.”

“Jiho is much too young for marriage,” said the Duke of Banha. “Even my dear Seunghee at 24 seems too young to my aged mind, I’ll admit. I can only hope she’ll makes friends. Wise and beloved as my girl is, she walks a lonely path, and I worry myself over it. My children shall be the death of me, I swear it.”

“Jiho is seventeen, is she not?” The Lord of Ipa redirected. “She is plenty for a first love, even if marriage is long off. Let her see if she and the King’s ward are friendly, and if it blossoms, it shall take years, you know well. There is no harm in a conversation, in the very least.”)

Seunghee scowled next at her sister, flittering around the two translators at the center of the room as she animatedly described her most recent sparring in exaggerated, vivid detail. The tall one had been well-engaged in the story, but his husband stared off at the door, growing excited when a pair of teens in matching colors passed through. He begged his interruption and ran off to them, speaking in a quick and sudden way.

(“Yejun, brother,” Youngjae said in quite a mischievous manner in Ippari, “I believe Jongup would be happy for you to make your acquaintance with the lass to which I had just spoken. A knight-to-be, by her word. Come along, your keep shall be here in a breath and happy to see you find some boldness. Yuri, if I remember correctly, Yeri was looking for you, though perhaps I am wrong and it was Jiwoo.”

He pulled Yejun by the shoulders over to where the Banha lass was still speaking with great excitement to Junhong, who had begged her on in a polite way.

Yejun began to pull away as they approached, his face blushing red as he hissed back, “she is too lovely, Youngjae, I truly cannot speak to her. I have no voice, no face, no form next to someone as handsome and strong as she!” 

Just as he protested, Jongup made his appearance, Binnie in tow. Youngjae caught their attention with a wave, and Yejun submitted, “you evil Amim-lover! Now my shortcomings shall be on display. Traitor, I’ll be introduced as you wish.” He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and he was ushered, only for his arms and expression to drop upon properly facing the knight-to-be.

“Yejun, may I introduce Jiho, the daughter of the Duke of Banha and a squire,” said Youngjae in Avoshi. “Jiho, may I introduce Yejun, ward of the King, younger brother of Duke Daehyun, and dignitary-to-be. If I am not mistaken, you are of the same age at seventeen, so I’m certain you shall be fast friends.”

“I’m delighted to make your acquaintance,” said Jiho with a smile, extending her hand.

Yejun’s whole face flushed and his mouth hung open. His palm was sweaty against hers. “Charmed… I— if… excuse me!” He ran off, towards Jongup, finding himself wrapped up in his arms as he begged a helpless little, “she’s so pretty. Help me,” in Uslili.

“You are as bold as a mouse in the face of a pretty girl,” teased Jongup in Uslili. Despite the switch being unnecessary, he found himself speaking Uslili as he told Yubin he’d be off for a few minutes. Yubin waved him off with word she had business of her own to attend to.)

A warm arm pressed around Seunghee’s shoulders and the scent of the woods filled up her nose as a sweet presence leaned over her. “I’m glad to see you back alright, Dear,” Queen Yubin said sweetly in Banha-ale-mon. “My brother-in-law often takes his own rides through the woods to clear his mind. My Yerim says you rode back with two of our girls? How far out had you been when they found you, Dear? I swear if you describe even a tree stump I shall know it, so worry not if you feel vague.”

“My Queen,” Seunghee curtsied politely. “I had ridden out for hours, to a large lake passed the turn of the bay. Some sirens had seen me back; they had been out singing on the lake. I’ll admit, if you’ll hold my secret for me, that I had been watching them for some time before they knew I was there.”

“Sirens, you say,” Queen Yubin’s face paled. “The girls who saw you back, you mean?” When Seunghee confirmed, she asked, “how long did you watch them singing on the lake?”

“For quite some time, your Majesty. Perhaps three different tunes passed my ear before they knew of my presence, and then hours once they did,” Seunghee replied, her face flushing.

Giving her a start and a jump was a sudden roar of upset from the queen in Ippari, a shout and a plea that lasted in explanation for minutes. With just the first two sentences, the room had stopped and seemed to follow suit in upset, and soon enough a pair were running in, the prince and his husband as it seemed, to join in the swirling discomfort. The young girl who matched with the King’s ward had run from the room as Seunghee stared on without understanding of the strangeness at hand.

(“Where is Yewon? Someone quickly, find her, lest this girl be cursed!” Yubin cried in Ippari. “Hurry, one of you, off then! Find our Yewonnie or our Minyoung this instant! She says she had spied on their lesson at the Far Lake today, and Minyoung said she wished to learn the Siren’s Song when she had set out this morning! Oh pray there is not a siren in her heart.”

The faces of all but the Duke of Banha, his daughters, and the Lord of Ipa quickly twisted up in worry. “You’re sure she says she heard them sing?” Youngjae asked.

“And that she heard when they were unaware?” Junhong tacked on in his shaky Ippari.

“Oh we are cursed, I swear it!” Yerim cried.

The door was slammed open as Daehyun rushed in, followed by a confused Yongguk. “What was this I hear of another outsider being cursed?” He begged. “Please tell me I misheard that someone had heard the Siren’s Song?” 

“Don’t forget it can be cured,” Yongguk whispered, pressing a hand on Daehyun’s shoulder. “If it was not malice, it shall be alright with time.”

“We yet are not sure if she is cursed or free. Yuri, run out and fetch Yewon or Minyoung, quickly!” Yubin begged, still caught up in the flush and worry of the matter. “Both should be in their rooms.”

“The three Min’s are out yet at play with our little Sanghyuk, love,” Jongup corrected. “I told them they might do so until the cook called them to begin the meal with us.”

“I’ll fetch Yewon,” Yuri promised, and ran from the room.)

It was minutes of tense silence later that the young girl returned with Seunghee’s siren from the lake, and her face turned quite red in belief her secret admiration would soon be revealed to the water nymph. Yet, still, her siren was so lovely, and her face and manner so kind, perhaps she would be forgiven.

“You heard three different tunes, you are sure of it?” Yubin asked in Banha.

“Yes, ma’am,” Seunghee wisered back.

(“Yewon, what songs did you sing to Minyoung today?” Daehyun asked quickly. “Every single one, please, tell us.” Yongguk put his hand on Daehyun’s shoulder and he deflated, stepping back against his husband but still shaky.

“Only the Hymns of the Lake and the Hymns of the Sea,” said Yewon.

“You swear it?” Daehyun asked. Yewon went silent. Her lips thinned as she looked away. “You won’t? Yewonnie, please, you must tell us all you sang to Minnie today. Any hymn, and tune, even if it was a simple humm, we must know.”

“She says she had heard three before she was seen by them,” Yubin said.

Yewon looked up, her face paling as she understood the situation at hand. “The Banha lass had heard us before we knew of her?” She sighed when it was confirmed. “Then I suppose I must admit to the last one, just please, swear to me you won’t be cross!”

“What did you—” Daehyun started.

Yongguk spoke over him, in a calm and even tone, “no one shall be cross with you, and if there is a curse we shall cure it. Worry not, only speak the truth, and all shall be as it is meant to be.”

Yewon sighed, and then came her admission, “Minyoung had begged me to sing my Calling Song. I know you had told me not to, for it does seem she is trying to learn it rather than finding her own, but I stood no chance against her whinings. ‘Twas nothing but my Calling Song, the girl shall be fine, so please do not be cross!”

The room deflated with calm and even breaths, “Minyoung is an odd one,” Daehyun volunteered, visibly relieved, “our little fish. She is yet three years off her own, I suppose, at seven it is rare to know your own Calling Song, so I suppose it is no harm.”

“Then all is well,” Jongup agreed. “Yerim, why don’t you call the young ones in for supper? You’re much more effective than the cook.”)

Out from the Manor’s windows, over the fields and rolling hills, a wood nymph’s song carried through the sweet summer air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying this new thing where I post my own reflection after a story instead of doing it sort of messily in comment replies so[if you're interested in reading my own thoughts click here](http://brainboxy.tumblr.com/private/181969608575/tumblr_pl99hbAEay1tvu2u8) and please leave a comment with you're own!~ (you dont need to read my thoughts to comment yours or anything... theyre just there for anyone who's curious :p)


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